English Classics, Etc., 

FOB 

' V- 

Classes in English Literature, Reading, Grammar, etc. 

EDITBD BT EMINENT ENGLISH XCTD AMBKICAK SCHOLARS. 

Each F ' " — - ,^^ ^^^ 



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the inf« 
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« 4 
« 5 

« 6 

« >{< 

«* 8 
«« 9 
«« 10 
«« 11 < 
«' 13 
« 18 ; 

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Parts L 



ol.) 




fenaKespeare's as it ou JL>LKe It, ete.1 (Selections.) 
Shakespeare's King John and Kl,>^ Richard II. (Selecttone.) 
Shakespeare's King Henry IV., l^Mg Henry V., Bang Henry 
TT. C^elections.) \ 

** 84 Shakespeare's Henry Vm., and Julius Caesar. (Selections.) 

(continued.) 



t 



ENGLISH CLASSICS— Continued. 

No. 25 Wordsworth's Excursion. (Book L) 

S6 Pope's Essay on Criticism. 

37 Spenser's Faerie Queene. (Cantos L and EL) 

28 Cowper's Task. (Book I.) 

29 Milton's Comus. 

80 Tennyson's Enoch Arden, The Lotus Eaters, UlysBes* and 
Tlthonus. 

81 Irving's Sketch Book. (Selections.) 

82 Dickens' Christmas CaroL (Condensed.) 
88 Carlyle's Hero as a Prophet. 

84 Maeaulay's Warren Hastings. (Condensed.) 

85 Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield. (Condensed.) 

86 Tennyson's The Two Toices, and A Dream of Fair Women. 
8? Memory Quotations. 

88 CavaUer Poets. 

89 Dryden's Alexander's Feast, and MacFlecknoe. 

40 Keats' The Eve of St. Agnes. 

41 Irving's Legend of Sleepy Hollow. 

42 Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare. 
48 Le Kow's How to Teach Reading. 

44 Webster's Bunker Hill Orations. 

45 The Academy Orthoeplst. A Manual of Pronunciation. 

46 Milton's Lycidas, and Hymn on the ^Nativity. 

47 Bryant's Thauatopsis, and Other Poems. 

48 Kuskin's Modern Painters. (Selections.) 

49 The Shakespeare Speaker. 

50 Thackeray's Boundabout Papers. 

51 Webster's Oration on Adams and Jefferson. 

52 Brown's Bab and His Friends. 
58 Morris's Life and Heath of Jason. 

54 Burke's Speech on American Taxation. 

55 Pope's Bape of the Lock. 

56 Tennyson's Elaine. 

57 Tennyson's In Memorlam. 

58 Church's Story of the JSneld. 

59 Church's Story of the Iliad. 

60 Swift's GuUiver's Toyage to Lillipnt. 

61 Maeaulay's Essay on Lord Bacon. (Condensed.) 

62 The Alccstis of Euripides. English Version by R^.R. Potter, M. A. 
68 The AntlgoBje of Sophocles. English Version by Thomas Franck' 

Im, D.D. 

64 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. (Selected Poems.)] 

65 Bobert Browning, (Selected Poems.) 

66 Addison's The Spectator. (Selections.) 

67 Scenes from George Eliot's Adam Bede. 

68 Matthew Arnold's Culture and Anarchy, 

Continued on last page. 



SHAKESPEARE'S 



Twelfth Night; 



Or, what you WILL 



Introduction, Notes, and Plan of Preparation, 
(selected.) 




By BRAINERD KELLO 

Pi'ofessor of the Ene^lish Languag^e and Literature in tke ■iJ^WA.'/y/i 

J'olytechnic Institute, and author of a " Text-Book on Rhetoric,''^ 

a " Text-Book on English Literature," and one of the authors 

of Reed &■ Kellogg' s " Graded Lessons in English " 

and "Higher Lessons in English" 

etc., etc. 



New York : 

Effingham Maynard & Co., Publishers, 

771 Bkoadwav and 67 & 69 Ninth St. 



"^ "^ ^ \ 



— ■ — "^^^Va 

kellogg's editions, -h^ • 
Shakespeare's Plays, ^"^ 

WITH NOTES. 
Uni/ornt in style and price "with this volume, 

THUS FAR COMPRISE: 
MERCHANT OF VENlCEa 
KING HENRY V. 
AS YOU LIKE IT. 
JULIUS CvESAR. 
KING LEAR. 
MACBETH. 
TEMPEST. 
HAMLET. 

KING HENRY VIII. 
KING HENRY IV., Part I. 
KING RICHARD III. 
A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. 
A WINTER'S TALE. 
OTHELLO. 
TWELFTH NIGHT. 

OTHERS IN PREPARATfON. 



Copyright, 1891, by 
EFFINGHAM MAYNARD & CO. 



EDITOR'S NOTE. 



The text here presented, adapted for use in mixed 
classes, has been carefully collated with that of six or 
seven of the latest and best editions. Where there was 
any disagreement those readings have been adopted 
which seemed most reasonable and were supported by 
the best authority. 

The notes of English editors have been freely used. 
Those taken as the basis of our work have been rigor- 
ously pruned wherever they were thought too learned 
or too minute, or contained matter that for any other 
reason seemed unsuited to our purpose. We have 
generously added to them, also, wherever they seemed 
to be lacking. B. K. 



GENERAL NOTICE* 



** An attempt has been made in these new editions ta 
interpret Shakespeare by the aid of Shakespeare himself. 
The Method of Comparison has been constantly employ- 
ed ; and the language used by him in one place has been, 
compared with the language used in other places in simi- 
lar circumstances, as well as with older English and with 
newer English. The text has been as carefully and as 
thoroughly annotated as the text of any Greek or Latia 
classic. 

*' The first purpose in this elaborate annotation is, of 
course the full working out of Shakespeare's meaning. 
The Editor has in all circumstances taken as much pains 
with this as if he had been making out the difficult and 
obscure terms of a will in which he himself was personally- 
interested ; and he submits that this thorough excavation 
of the meaning of a really profound thinker is one of the 
very best kinds of training that a boy or girl can receive at 
school. This is to read the very mind of Shakespeare, and. 
to weave his thoughts into the fibre of one's own mental 
conctitution. And always new rewards come to the care- 
ful reader — in the shape of new meanings, recognition q£ 

5 



VI 



thoughts he had before missed, of relations between the 
characters that had hitherto escaped him. For readings 
Shakespeare is just hlce examining Nature ; there are no 
hollownesses, there is no scamped work, for Shakespeare 
is as patiently exact and as first-hand as Nature herself. 

" Besides this thorough working-out of Shakespeare's 
meaning, advantage has been taken of the opportunity to 
teach his English — to make each play an introduction to 
the English of Shakespeare. For this purpose copi- 
ous collections of similar phrases have been gathered from 
other plays ; his idioms have been dwelt upon j his pecu- 
liar use of words ; his style and his rhythm. Some 
Teachers may consider that too many instances are given ; 
but, in teaching, as in everything else, the old French say- 
ing is true : Asscz ji^y a, s'il trap ii'y a. The Teacher 
need not require each pupil to give him all the instances 
collected. If each gives one or two, it will probably be 
■enough ; and, among them all, it is certain that one or two 
■will stick in the memory. It is probable that, for those pu- 
pils who do not study either Greek or Latin, this close ex- 
amination of every word and phrase in the text of Shake- 
speare wiU be the best substitute that can be found for the 
.study of the ancient classics. 

*' It were much to be hoped that Shakespeare should 
become more and more of a study, and that every boy 
and girl should have a thorough knowledge of at least one 
play of Shakespeare before leaving school, ."It would be 
one of the best lessons in human life, without the chance 
of a polluting or degrading experience. It would also 
liave the effect of bringing back into the too pale and for- 
mal English of modem times a large number of pithy and 



Vil 

vigorous phrases which would help to develop as well as 
to reflect vigor in the characters of the readers. Shake- 
speare used the English language with more power than 
any other writer that ever lived — ^he made it do more and 
say more than it had ever done ; he made it speak in a 
more original way ; and his combinations of words are per- 
petual provocations and invitations to originality and to 
newness of insight." — ^J. M. D. Meiklejohn, M.A., 
Professor of the Theory, History, and Practice of Educa" 
iio7i in the University of St. Andrews^ 



Shakespeare's Grammap. 

Shakespeare lived at a time when the grammar and vocabnlary of 
the Enghsh language were in a state of transition. Various points 
were not yet settled ; and so Shakespeare's grammar is not only 
Bomewhat different from our own but is by no means uniform in 
itself. In the Elizabethan age, "Almost any part of speech can'be 
used as any other part of speech. An adverb can be used as a verb, 
*They askance their eyes;' as a noun, 'the backward and abysm 
of time;' or as an adjective, 'a seldona pleasure.' Any noun, ad- 
jective, or neuter [intrans.] verb can be used as an active [trans.] 
verb. You can ' happy ' your friend, ' malice ' or ' foot ' your en- 
emy, or ' fall ' an axe on his neck. An adjective can be used as 
an adverb; and you can speak and act 'easy,' 'free,' 'excel- 
lent ; ' or as a noun, and you can talk of ' fair ' instead of ' beau- 
ty,' and ' a pale ' instead of ' a paleness.' Even the pronouns are 
not exempt from these metamorphoses. A ' he ' is used for a man, 
and a lady is described by a gentleman as ' the fairest she he has yet 
beheld.' In the second place, every variety of apparent grammati- 
cal inaccuracy meets us. He for Aim, him for he ; spokA and took for 
spoken and taken ; plural nominatives with singular verbs ; relatives 
omitted where they are now considered necessary ; unnecessary an- 
tecedents inserted ; shall for mil, sJwuld for would^ would for ivish ; 
10 omitted after ' 1 ought,^ inserted after ' / durst ; ' double nega- 
tives • double comparatives (' more better,' &c.) and superlatives ; 
such followed hj which [or thaf], that by as^ as used for as if ; that 
for so that ; and lastly some verbs apparently with two nominatives, 
and others without any nominative at all."— Dr. Abbott's Shakespe- 
Han Grammar. 

Shakespeare's VersifieaUon. 

Shakespeare's Plays are written mainly in what is known as UU' 
Timed, or blank-verse ; but they contain a number of riming, and a 
considerable number of prose, lines. As a general rule, rime is 
much commoner in the earlier than in the later plays. Thus, Love's 
Zaftw's Xos< contains nearly 1,100 rimina: lines, while (if we except 
the songs) Winter's Tale has none. The Merchant of Venice has 
124. 

In speaking we lay a stress on particular syllables : this stress is 
called accent. When the words of a composition are so arranged 
that the accent recurs at regular intervals, the composition is said to 
be metrical or rhythmical. Rhythm, or Metre, is an embellishment 
of language which, though it does not constitute poetry itself, yet 
provides it with a suitably elegant dress ; and hence most modern 
poets have written in metre. In blank ve'-se the lines consist usu- 



any of ten syllables, of which the second, fourth, sixth, eighth, and 
Jenth are accented. The line consists, therefore, of five parts, each 
of which contains an unaccented followed by an accented syllable, 
as in the word attend. Each of these five parts forms what is called 
Afoot or measure ; and the five together form a pentameter. " Penta- 
meter " is a Greek word signifying " five measures," This is the 
^sual form of a line of blank verse. But a long poem composed en- 
tirely of such lines would be monotonous, and for the sake of variety- 
several important modifications have been introduced. 

(a) After the tenth syllable, one or two unaccented syllables are 
sometimes added ; as — 

" Me-tkought [ you said \ you nei \ ther lend \ nor hor I row." 

(J) In any foot the accent may be shifted from the second to the 
first syllable, provided two accented syllables do not come together. 

" Pluck' the I young suck' \ ing cubs' \from the' \ she 'bear'. \ " 

(c) In such words as "yesterday," "voluntary," "honesty," the 
syllables -day., -ta-, and ty falling in the place of the accent, are» 
for the purposes of the verse, regarded as truly accented. 

" Bars' me I the right' \ of vol'- \ un-ta' \ ry chocs' \ ing."*"* 

{d) Sometimes we have a succession of accented syllables ; this 
occurs with monosyllabic feet only. 

" Why, noio, blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark.^"^ 

(e) Sometimes, but more rarely, two or even three unaccented 
syllables occupy the place of one ; as — 

" He says | he does, | be-ing then \ mostflai, \ ter-ed.'"'' 

(f) Lines may have any number of feet from one to six. 

Finally, Shakespeare adds much to the pleasing variety of hif^ 
blank verse by placing the pauses in different parts of the line 
(especially after the second or third foot), insteaa of placing them 
all at the ends of lines, as was the earlier custom. 

N. B. — In some cases the rhythm requires that what we usually 
pronounce as one syllable shall be divided into two, asfl-er (fire), 
su-er (sure), mi-el /mile), &c. • too-elve (twelve), jaw-ee (joy), &c. 
Similarly, she-on (-tion or -sion). 

It is very important to give the pupil plenty of ear-training by 
means of formal scansion. This will greatly assist him inhis 
reading. 



PLAN OF STUDY 



* PERFECT POSSESSION. 



To attain to the standard of ' Perfect Pos- 
session,' the reader ought to have an inti- 
mate and ready knowledge of the subject. 
(See opposite page.) 

The student ought,' first of all, to read the 
play as a pleasure ; then to read it over again, 
with his mind upon the characters and the 
plot ; and lastly, to read it for the meanings, 
grammar, &c. 

With the help of the scheme, he can easily 
draw up for himself short examination papers 
(i) on each scene, (2) on each act, (3) on 
the whole play. 

8 



13!: 



1. The Plot and Story of the Play. 

(a) The general plot ; 
(d) The special incidents. 

2. The Characters: Ability to give a connected account 

of all that is done and most of what is said by 
each character in the play. 
S. The Influence and Interplay of the Characters upon 
each other. 

(a) Relation of A to B and of B to A ; 
(i>) Relation of A to C and D. 
4. Complete Possession of the Language. 
{a) Meanings of words ; 

(5) Use of old words, or of words in an old mean- 
ing; 

(c) Grammar; 

(d) Ability to quote lines to illustrate a gram- 

matical point, 
§» Power to Reproduce, or Quote. 

(a) What was said by A or B on a particular 

occasion ; 
(d) What was said by A in reply to B ; 

(c) What argument was used by C at a particu- 

lar juncture ; 

(d) To quote a line in instance of an idiom or of 

a peculiar meaning. 
il Power to Locate. 

(a) To attribute a line or statement to a certain 

person on a certain occasion ; 
(3) To cap a line ; 
(c) To fill in the right word or epithe* 



INTEODUCTORY REMARKS. 

This delightful comedy, which was first published 
in the folio collection of 1623, was long supposed to 
be one of its author's latest compositions. But in 
1828 there was discovered in the British Museum a 
manuscript diary of a student of the Middle Temple, 
recording the performance of the play at a Candlemas 
feast In 1602 ; and. as Meres' list, 1598, does not in- 
clude this comedy, we are warranted in concluding 
that it was written some time between 1598 and 1602, 

The serious portions of the plot appear to have 
been imitated from an Italian comedy, founded on 
one of Bandello's novels, and having the general title 
of // Sacrijicio. The Rev. Joseph Hunter, in his N'e'w 
Ilhcstrations of Shakespeare, suggested this source, 
and the suggestion is well supported by the analysis 
he gives of // Sacrijicio, the chief portion of the 
analysis being as follows : — 

" Fabritio and Lelia, a brother and sister, are sepa- 
rated at the sack of Rome in 1527. Lelia is carried to 
Modena, where resides Flamineo, to whom she had 
formerly been attached. Lelia disguises herself as a 
boy, and enters his service. Flamineo had forgotton 

10 



IN TROD UC TION. 1 1 

Lelia, and was a suitor to Isabella, a Modenese lady. 
Lelia in her male attire is employed in love embassies 
from Flamineo to Isabella. Isabella is insensible to 
the importunities of Flamineo, but conceives a violent 
passion for Lelia, mistaking her for a man. In the 
third act Fabritio arrives at Modena, v^rhen mistakes 
arise, owing to the close resemblance there is between 
Fabritio and his sister in male attire. Ultimately 
recognitions take place ; the affections of Isabella are 
easily transferred from Lelia to Fabritio ; and Fla- 
mineo takes to his bosom the affectionate and faithful 
Lelia. . . . We have in the Italian play a subordi- 
nate character, named Pasqtiella, to whom Maria cor- 
responds ; and, in the subordinate incidents, we find 
Fabritio mistaken in the street for Lelia by the servant 
of Isabella, who takes him to her mistress's house, 
exactly as Sebastian is taken for Viola, and led to the 
house of Olivia. . . . Malvolio is a happy adapta- 
tion from Malevolti, a character in the // Sucrijicio. 
A phrase occurring in a long prologue or preface 
prefixed to this play in the Italian {la Notte di Beffava) 
appears to me to have suggested the title Tzvelfth 
Night."' 

On the evening of the Twelfth Day after Christmas 
(the Epifania or Epiphany, commemorating the Visit 
of the. Magi), shows and festivities prevailed in Eng- 
land as well as on the Continent ; and Shakespeare, 
very possibly, in naming his play, judged it suitable 



12 INTRODUC ri'ON, 

as an entertainment for such occasions as Twelfth 
Night. 

This play, like many others of Shakespeare's, has a 
double plot. A twin brother and sister (Sebastian and 
Viola) are wrecked in a voyage in the same ship, and 
each unknown to the other is rescued. 

The sister Viola is in love with the Duke of Illyria, 
upon whose coast she has been wrecked, and enters 
his service in disguise as a page. But the Duke is in 
love with a countess named Olivia, and sends the sup- 
posed page to carry his love messages to her. Olivia, 
however, complicates matters further by falling in 
love with the supposed page. Now Olivia's unclfe. 
Sir Toby Belch, has a foolish and rather dissolute 
friend, named Sir Andrew Aguecheek, whom he is 
persuading to pay attentions to Olivia. The latter 
has vowed that she will mourn for her dead brother 
and receive no suitors for seven years ; and Sir Toby, 
seeing his own candidate discredited, and the page in 
favor with Olivia, picks a quarrel with the page, and 
in jest sets up Sir Andrew to fight him. Just as the 
duel is coming off, the friend of Viola's twin bro,ther 
appears on the scene, and, thinking that he sees Sebas- 
tian about to fight with a more experienced man than 
himself, he intervenes and rescues the supposed t^y. 
Sir Andrew, however, is again spurred on to attack 
Viola, but this time falls in, not with Viola, but with 
her brother, who breaks Sir Andrew's head. Shortly 



IN TR on UCTION. 1 3 

after, this brother Sebastian meets Olivia and marries 
her secretly, Olivia, of course, mistaking him for his 
disguised sister. Next day the Duke, v^rith Viola in 
attendance, comes to pay his addresses to Olivia. She 
begs Viola to declare the marriage, but Viola naturally 
denies it. During this complication Sebastian enters 
to make his apologies for the brawl with Sir Toby. 
Explanations ensue, and the Duke and Viola, and 
Sebastian and the Countess Olivia, are of course duly 
matched. 

The second plot is much simpler. Olivia has a 
house steward named Malvolio, who has a very great 
dislike to Sir Toby Belch, and his friend Sir Andrew 
Aguecheck, because they drink and make riot in the 
house. He remonstrates with them, and thus also 
incurs the enmity of Olivia's maid, Maria, for she is 
in love with Sir Toby. The result is, that Sir Toby, 
Sir Andrew, the fool Feste, and Maria, all join to- 
gether in a conspiracy to punish him. Maria drops 
a letter in his way, purporting to be from her mis- 
tress, Olivia, expressing great affection for him, and 
begg'ng him if he returned her love to smile at her 
and to wear yellow stockings and to appear cross- 
gartered. All these things Malvolio does, and the 
Coui tess supposes him mad. He is accordingly bound 
and i^ut in a dark room and exceedingly fooled by 
the Clown, who, however, at last carries a letter for 
him to his mistress, which induces her to see him. 



14 INTR OD UC TION. 

and, on his presenting the letter he picked up, the 
mystery is made clear, and he goes off vowing ven- 
geance. Fabian now declares Sir Toby's marriage i 
with Maria. 

The love matters in this play are abundant, various, 
and interesting to a degree. First, Viola's love for 
the Duke. Her affection for him grew up while she 
"was serving him. 

The process, though rapid, is natural. Viola gains 
liis heart quickly by her good service. She is musical, 
and the Duke being very fond of music, in three days 
she is no stranger, as the other attendants observe, 
and so the Duke takes her into his full confidence, as 
he could not have done with a lady. This confidence 
inspires affection, and three days' service produces 
love. 

The next love matter to be noticed is that of Olivia 
for Viola in her assumed character as page (Cesario). 
This is a very curious affair altogether, because Olivia 
is so dignified and stately a lady, and because Cesario's 
mission to her is so very unpleasing that it might 
almost be expected to render the message distasteful. 
But Olivia is charmed by the frank modesty of the boy, 
and he takes her captive at once. 

The Duke's hopeless passion for Olivia is very beau- 
tifully expressed all through. He at least follows his 
own maxim, that the man should be the elder, in mar- 



INTR OD UC TION. 1 5 

rying Viola at the end. Probably Olivia is nearer his 
own age, 

Malvolio's love affair, which brings him into such 
derision, and indeed puts him into ludicrous predica- 
ments throughout, can hardly be regarded as genuine 
at all. 

Sir Toby Belch finds something congenial in Maria's 
love of the comic. Fabian is guilty of a good-natured 
untruth when he states that Sir Toby's great importance 
caused Maria to write the letter, and that he married 
her in recompense ; for it is to be observed that Maria 
proposed the trick herself, and that Sir Toby admires 
her all through. He has many pet names for her, as 
" youngest wren of nine," " little villian, " and so forth. 

As regards Olivia's affection for Sebastian, one can 
but hope that he may daily become more and more 
like the twin-sister who did his wooing for him (he cer- 
tainly does not resemble her greatly in character, 
though he is so like her in face), or that Olivia may 
change her standard a trifle, and prefer more masculine 
qualities. 

The characters in Twelfth Xight are all as distinct 
from each other, or from any that occur in other plays, 
as Shakespeare's invariably are. 

Sir Toby Belch seldom appears on the stage entirely 
sober, and more than once he appears exceedingly 
drunk, When he is reasonably sober, but withal re- 
freshed and cheered with a cup of sack, he is not only 



lb INTRODUCTION. 

witty, but has the art of inventing and carrying- out very 
ingenious devices. Indeed, such a delight does Sir 
Toby take in his little conspiracy for causing Sir An- 
drew and Viola each to be terrified by the other that 
he actually sacrifices to it the last hope of carrying 
through another scheme, for bringing about a marriage 
between Sir Andrew and his niece ; that is if he ever 
was really serious in that matter, and was not merely 
keeping Sir Andrew hanging on for the purpose of 
sponging upon him. Of his wit in his treatment of 
Sir Andrew there can be no question. Sir Andrew is 
so great a fool that, apart from Sir Toby, he must 
necessarily have been a very great bore ; but Sir Toby 
has the power of drawing amusement even from the 
slow, unoriginal, imitative, thick-headed creature who 
acknowledges that many do call him fool. This is 
done by flattering Sir Andrew's self-love at one time, 
and rousing his jealousy at another ; setting him up to 
brag, and laughing at him when Maria " puts him 
down ;" lashing him into rage <^with a suggestion that 
he may safely vent it), and then rousing all his latent 
cowardice, and showing up the abject fear of which the 
man can be capable. We may observe, however, that 
Sir Toby is faithful to his boon companion ; he brags 
for Sir Andrew, as well as provokes him to brag, and 
in act i. sc. 3 does not allow Maria to say aoy harm of 
him. There seems some sense of kindliness even in the 
man who takes gray Capilet on false pretenses from his 



INTRODUCTION. 17 

foolish friend, and who boasts, "I have been dear to 
him, lad, some two thousand strong or so." Note 
his behavior when Viola first begins to hope that her 
brother lives, and, torn with conflicting doubts, ex- 
claims — 

"Prove true, imagination, oh, prove true 
That I, dear brother, ' now ta''en for you 

As soon as he sees her sorrow he acts with kindliness 
and consideration, and draws Sir Andrew and Fabian 
away that she may be alone with her grief — ' ' Come 
hither, knight ; come hither. Fabian," etc. Sir Toby 
is by birth a gentleman, and commonly his gentle- 
manly instincts come to the front as here : but, having 
spent all his life in carousing, he naturally falls some- 
what from his original social position. Sir Toby's 
marriage with Maria does credit to his good sense. It 
seems improbable that he could have married a lady if 
he had wished it, or that happiness would have ac- 
crued to either party from such a contract. Sir Toby 
preferred the company of his intellectual inferior as a 
friend, and it appears natural that he should choose 
his social inferior as a wife. It is remarkable that 
while Sir Toby, in his indignation with Malvolio, is 
helping Maria in her trick, so that he may avenge him- 
self, on the other hand is unconsciously falling into 
her toils. 

Sir Toby is witty, ingenious, scheming, and drunken. 



1 8 INTR OD UC TION. 

faithful to his friend, and honorable in his dealing 
with the woman he loves, though so far lost to self- 
respect that he can behave disgracefully before the rich 
niece, whom it would be good policy to conciliate. 
Still his irresistible humor and his uproarious fun will' 
always make us like him, with all his faults. 

Sir Andrew Aguecheek is a fitting name for " an ass- 
liead, a coxcomb, and a knave, a thin-faced knave and a 
gull," the poor creature who is the mere echo of Sir 
Toby in word and deed throughout the play ; one who 
considers Sir Toby quite the best model to copy„ He 
is imprimis a fool, next a fool to be such a coward, and 
further a bigger fool to be so quarrelsome when he is 
so cowardly. He is indeed a fool of many kinds. 
Though he would fain believe himself a good dancer, 
clever, and brave, yet at times he has misgivings of his 
powers; for he recognizes himself as "a foolish 
knight" when Malvolio makes use of that expression, 
and freely admits to Sir Toby and Fabian, " Many do 
call me fool." 

Feste, the jester, the " corrupter of words," is a per- 
fect philosopher in his way ; he is a man who can more 
clearly descry the faults and follies of others, and ridi- 
cule them, than anyone else in the play. He holds his 
own for individuality of character ; he is, for instance, 
utterly unlike the fool in King Lear. He is fond of 
drink, and is a bold beggar, obtaining money from Sir 
Toby, Sir Andrew, and Sebastian, He is a born actor; 



INTRODUCTION. 19 

witness his management of the part of Sir Topas, and 
the way he takes off affectations of expression. 

Malvolio is represented as a thoroughly honest and 
conscientious servant and one who is implicitly trusted 
by his mistress, and is worthy of her confidence in 
every respect. The worst accusation that Olivia ever 
brings against him is, " Oh, you are sick of self-love, 
Malvolio!" and her appreciation of his services is 
shown by her remark when she is afraid that he is mad^ 
" Let some of my people have a special care of him ; 
I would not have him miscarry for the half of my 
dowry." Still his whole bearing shows an inclination 
to tyrannize. 

Malvolio appears either as a man to be laughed at 
for his follies, and to be justly held in ridicule for his 
insufferable conceit, or he poses as a martyr on account 
of the very severe treatment he receives for yielding for 
the moment to the temptation of his besetting sin. 
Lamb seems somewhat to have adopted the latter view^ 
and has drawn a very favorable picture of Malvolio, 
This was probably due to his accepting the reading of a 
particular actnr, viz., Bensley, In the first instance 
Lamb considers that Malvolio's rebuke to the drinking 
party is sensible and spirited, but there is surely a want 
of sense in speaking so disrespectfully to " my lady's 
kinsman" and his friend. He addresses them as " my 
masters," and accuses them of turning Olivia's house 
into an alehouse, and singing cozier's catches. All 



20 INTRO D UC TION. 

this is not in Olivia's message, which he proceeds to 
deliver with, " / must be round with you." Further, 
he rebukes Maria ; not content with offending the 
drinkers, he must needs make an enemy of the lady's 
maid, over whom he is unable to establish his authority. 
This conduct seems more injudicious and bumptious 
than sensible aod spirited. The Duke*s expression, 
"Pursue hirn and entreat him to a peace " is surely 
rather the effect of ^he tradition that a comedy ends 
with a general making up of wrongs than an intima- 
tion of estimable qualities on his part. " He argues," 
says Lamb, "highly and well with the supposed Sir 
Topas." True, he appears to have had some educa- 
tion, and he may well make the best of it in the hope 
of getting released from chains, darkness, and straw. 
But should not this very education have taught him to 
speak civilly toLCesario, a gentleman, and a friend of 
the Countess W^ 

Malvolio^s " sick of self-love." -This is what ren- 
ders him " cold, austere, and repelling." But his cold- 
ness degenerates into rudeness, and his austerity into 
tyranny; for he adopts a bullying tone towards the 
licensed fool; and he intends, as he expresses himself 
in the soliloquy, which is listened to from the box-tree, 
to behave very superciliously, as soon as he shall get. 
the opportunity, to his betters in position. That 
with these qualities he should be repellant is not won- 
i^erful. 



IN TROD UC TION. 21 

Orsino, Duke of Illyria, is represented as the victim 
of an unrequited attachment. He is calm and dignified, 
as befits his high station, and. is a cultured gentleman, 
with a strong love of music/!" His tone of mind is mel- 
ancholy and despondentv He needs a confidante and 
sympathy, and gets both from Viola, 

It is a somewhat favorite expedient of Shakespeare's 
to clothe his female characters in men's attire. Portia, 
Imogen, and Rosalind all adopted it for different 
reasons. Of these three characters, the one whose sur- 
rounding circumstances are least unlike Viola's is Rosa- 
lind. But Rosalind is loquacious where Viola sighs in 
silence, and she has far less self-command; for she 
faints at a catastrophe, whereas Viola remains calm. 
Viola's wit is perhaps a trifle forced at times, but Rosa- 
lind's is ready at a moment's notice, and flows on un- 
interruptedly. Her love is more realistic than Viola's. 
Viola's has a higher tone and a different standard alto- 
gether—the one being the kind of passion a girl might 
be expected to entertain towards a lover who was a 
good wrestler; the other the affection of a lady for a 
highly-cultured and fastidious gentleman. 

Viola's grief for Sebastian does not cause her to 
brood, or make her mind less active. She is very 
prompt in conceiving her project, and carries it out 
with remarkable determination While her ready wit 
teaches her to simulate well the saucy boy, her 
womanly tenderness reveals itself in many pathetic 



22 INTR OD UC TION. 

speeches. She is, as she declares, " very com ptible;'' 
and, as Sebastian said of her, " She bore a mind that 
envy could not but call fair." It is only the self- loving 
Malvolio that finds her " of a very ill manner." 

Comparing Viola wJth Olivia, it is to be noticed that 
Olivia is filled with a n. or bid grief for her brother. 
She makes a luxury of Vtroe, and the fool gives her his 
opinion pretty strongly on the subject. Feste, the 
professional jester, however, fails entirely in rousing 
her to a contest of wit. This is left for. Viola to do. 
Viola breaks down the wall of separation which Olivia 
has raised up between herself and her suitors when 
bowed down by her sorrow, and disgusted with Sir 
Toby's choice of a candidate for her hand. 

Viola proves to her that, though Orsino cannot re- 
place the dead brother, yet her heart is not so entirely 
buried in his grave but that it may yet be awakened to 
love. Olivia's tone of mind is essentially dignified, 
and her grief adds calmness to dignity. Yet she 
necessarily gives Cesario the hint of her own affection 
for him, because she has the advantage of hi«;^by posi- 
tion. Hence we have the singular spectacle of a 
stately lady of high position making advances to a 
page. Her favorable impression of him dates from 
the discovery that he is a gentleman, and it would 
follow, from what has been said, that the intimacy 
between two such characters had in it no element of 
familiarity. 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

To conclude. Viola is affectionate, prompt, deter- 
mined, modest, and witty. She has a quick apprecia- 
tion of character, and can make herself master of cir- 
cumstances. Viola has a true sense of pathos. 

Olivia is also affectionate, but her sense of pathos 
is morbid, and makes her languid. She does not make 
herself master of circumstances, but is led by them. 
Olivia's innate dignity causes her to resolve not to be 
followed by a tribe of suitors, but she is overcome and 
led captive at once by Cesario. 

Sebastian bears but a faint resemblance to Viola, In 
place of her saucy words he has a ready weapon. 
There is a trifle of similarity in the way in which each 
takes the supposed death of the other — Viola by im- 
plication wishing herself in Elysium with her dead 
brother, and Sebastian saying he and his sister were 
born in the same hour, " Would we had so ended.'* 
But Viola is more ideal, and her speeches flow natur- 
ally in verse ; while Sebastian is more realistic, and 
his conversation is principally prose. He has not 
Viola's merry wit. 

The friendship between Antonio and Sebastian is as 
strongly marked as that between Antonio and Bassa- 
nio in the Merchant of Venice. Antonio and Bassanio 
are, however, more like equals, and possibly are con- 
temporaries. When Bassanio gets into debt he bor- 
rows of Antonio as a friend, addresses him n dissua- 
sion of his signing the " merry bond " as an equal. 



24 , INTRODUCTION, 

and looks to him for sympathy in his own love affairs. 
When the catastrophe is impending, Antonio expects 
Bassanio to be present, not from any hope of his bring- 
ing aid, but to be a support and comfort in the moment 
of affliction. Antonio offers Bassanio " purse, person,^ 
and all he has but honor; stakes his credit for him, runs 
every risk, and, having rescued Bassanio from his dif- 
ficulties, is prepared to die with dignity and resignation, 
if only he is sustained by the presence of the man for 
whom he has done so much. Antonio of Twelfth 
Night, on the other hand, rescues the life of his young 
fellow- passenger by a bold feat of activity. Impelled 
by a desire for sympathy, the boy confides to him 
those personal matters which Antonio is too delicate to 
inquire into. This touches Antonio's heart, and he 
extends to the young Sebastian a sort of elder-broth- 
erly protection throughout; gives him money, finds him 
a lodging, runs into danger in the street seeking him, 
and finally gets thrown into prison while defending him 
with the sword. 

Maria is pert and imperious always, and a crafty 
schemer. She has very considerable powers of repar- 
tee, which she exercises freely on Sir Andrew. Of Sir 
Toby she is fond from the beginning, though she scolds 
him in the first scene in which they appear together. 
In another scene she tries at first to calm his drunken 
excitement, but cannot resist bringing him more drink 
when he calls for it, apparently with the intention of 



INTRODUCTION. 25 

anno^^ing Malvolio. She originates the trick upon the 
house-steward, and leaves the credit of it to Sir Toby 
and his friends; whether because she is afraid of Olivia's 
anger, or because she would ingratiate herself with Sir 
Toby, does not appear. The final conclusion is inevi- 
table. She succeeds in her aim, and marries him. 
One may prognosticate that his affection wjll last; for 
she will establish a complete ascendancy over him, 
and will govern him kindly and firmly — hers being ob- 
viously the ruling mind of the two. 

Of this comedy Halliwell-Phillipps says, "The per- 
fection of English comedy, and the most fascinating 
drama in the language. ... It was appreciated at 
an early period as one of the author's most popular 
creations. There is not only the testimony of Man- 
ningham — a student of the Middle Temple, who saw it 
performed, and wrote of it in his dairy — in its favor, 
but Leonard Digges, in the verses describing this most 
attractive of Shakespeare's acting dramas, expressly 
alludes to the estimation in which the part of Malvolio 
was held by the frequenters of the theater." 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

Orsino, Duke Ox' Illyria, also called the Count. 

Sebastian, brother to Viola. 

Antonio, a Sea-Captain, friend to Sebastian. 

A Sea-Captain, friend to Viola. 

Valentine, ) ^, ^^ j- »i, T^ i 

y gentlemen attending on the Duke. 

Curio, ) 

Sir Toby Belch, uncle to Oliviao 

Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 

Malvolio, steward to Olivia. 

Fabian, } , ^ ^t . 

' y servants to Olivia. 

Feste, a Clown, ) 

Olivia, a rich Countess. 

Viola, sister to Sebastian ; when disguised appears as 

Cesario. 
Maria, Olivia's woman. 

Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and At- 
tendants. 
Scene: A city in Illyria^ and the sea-coast near it. 

26 



TWELFTH NIGHT. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. A room in the Duke's palace. 

Efiter Duke, Curio, and other Lords ; Musicians 
attending. 

Duke. If music be the food of love, play on; 
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, 
The appetite may sicken and so die. 
That strain again ! it had a dying fall : 
Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound 
That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
Stealing and giving odor! Enough ; no more : 
'T is not so sweet now as it was before. 
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou ! 
That, notwithstanding thy capacity lo 

Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, 
Of what validity and pitch soe'er, 
But falls into abatement and low price, 
Even in a minute : so full of shapes is fancy 
That it alone is high fantastical. 

Oirio. Will you go hunt, my lord ? 

Duke. What, Curio ? 

27 



28 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

Curio. The hart. 

Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have : 
Oh, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, 
20 Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence ! 
That instant was I turn'd into a hart; 
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, ' 
E'er since pursue me. 

Enter VALENTINE. 

How now ! what news from her? 
Val. So please my lord, I might not be ad- 
mitted ; 
But from her handmaid do return this answer: 
The element itself, till seven years' heat, ' 
Shall not behold her face at ample view ; 
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk. 
And water once a day her chamber round 
30 With eye-offending brine : all this to season 
A brother's dead love, which she would keep 

fresh 
And lasting in her sad remembrance. 

Duke. Oh, she that hath a heart of that fine 
frame 
To pay this debt of love but to a brother. 
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft 
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else 
That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart, 
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and 

fill'd 
Her sweet perfections with one self king! 
40 Away before me to sweet beds of flowers : 

Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with 
bowers. [Exemtt. 



sc. II.] TWELFTH NIGHT, 29 

Scene II. The Sea-coast. 
Enter ViOLA, a Captain, a/z^/ Sailors. 

Viola. What country, friends, is this,'* 

Capt. This is lUyria, lady. 

Viola. And what sliould I do in Illyria.'* 
My brother he is in Elysium. 
Perchance he is not drown'd: what think you, 
sailors } 

Capt. It is perchance that you yourself were 
sav'd. 

Viola. Oh, my poor brother ! and so perchance 
may he be. 

Capt. True, madam : and, to comfort you with 
chance, 
Assure yourself, after our ship did split. 
When you and those poor number saved with you 10 
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother. 
Most provident in peril, bind himself. 
Courage and hope both teaching him the practice, 
To a strong mast that liv'd upon the sea; 
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, 
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves 
So long as I could see. 

Viola. For saying so, there 's gold : 
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope. 
Whereto thy speech serves for authority, 20 

The like of him. Know'st thou this country? 

Capt. Ay, madam, well ; for I was bred and 
born 
Not three hours' travel from this very place. 
Viola. Who governs here .^ 

Capt. A noble duke, in nature as in name. 



30 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

Viola. What is his name ? 

Capt. Oi'sino. 

Viola. Orsino ! I have heard my father name 
him.. He was a bachelor then. 
30 Capt. And so is now, or was so very late ; 
For but a month ago I went from hence, 
And then 't was fresh in murmur, — as, you know, 
What great ones do the less will prattle of, — 
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia. 

Viola. What 's she } 

Capt. A virtuous naid, the daughter of a count 
That died some twelverhonth since, then leaving 

her 
In the protection of his son, her brother, 
Who shortly also died : for whose dear love, 
40 They say she hath abjur'd the company 
And sight of men. 

Viola. Oh, that I serv'd that lady, 

And might not be deliver'd to the world 
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, 
What my estate is ! 

Capt. That were hard to compass ; 

Because she will admit no kind of suit, 
No, not the duke's. 

Viola. There is a fair behavior in thee, captain ; 
And though that nature with a beauteous wall 
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee 
50 I will believe thou hast a mind that suits 
With this thy fair and outward character. 
I prithee, and I '11 pay thee bounteously, 
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid 
For such disguise as haply shall become 
The form of my intent. I '11 serve this duke: 



sc. III.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 31 

Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him : 

It may be worth thy pains ; for I can sing 

And speak to him in many sorts of music 

That will allow me very worth his service. 

What else may hap to time I will commit ; 60 

Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. 

Capt. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I '11 

be: 
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not 

see. 
Viola. I thank thee : lead me on. [Exeimt. 

Scene III. A roojn in Olivia's house. 
Enter SiR ToBY Belch and Maria. 

Sir Toby. What a plague means my niece, to 
take the death of her brother thus } I am sure 
care 's an enemy to life. 

Maria. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come 
in earlier o' nights : your cousin, my lady, takes 
great exceptions to your ill hours. 

Sir Toby. Why, let her except before excepted. 

Maria. Ay. but you must confine yourself 
within the modest limits of order. 

Sir Toby. Confine ! I '11 confine myself no 10 
finer than I am : these clothes are good enough 
to drink in; and so be these boots too: an they 
be not, let them hang themselves in their own 
straps. 

Maria. That quaffing and drinking will undo 
you : I heard my lady talk of it yesterday ; and 
of a foolish knight that you brought in one night 
here to be her wooer. 



32 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

Sir Toby. Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek ? 

Maria. Ay, he. 

Sir Toby. He 's as tall a man as any 's in Illyria. 
20 Maria. What 's that to the purpose? 

Sir Toby. Why, he has three thousand ducats 
a year. 

Maria. Ay, but he '11 have but a year in all 
these ducats : he 's a very fool and a prodigal. 

Sir Toby. Fie, that you '11 say so ! he plays o' 
the viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or fo'ir 
languages word for word without book, and hath 
all ihe good gifts of nature. 

Maria. He hath, indeed, almost natural : for, 
besides that he 's a fool, he 's a great quarrelier ; 
and but that he hath the gift of a coward to al- 
30 lay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 't is thought 
among the prudent he would quickly have the 
gift of a grave. 

Sir Toby. By this hand, they are scoundrels and 
substractOrs that say so of him. Who are they ? 

Maria. They that add, moreover, he 's drunk 
nightly in your company. 

Sir Toby. With drinking healths to my niece: 
I '11 drink to her as long as there is a passage in 
my throat and drink in Illyria : he 's a coward and 
a coystrill that will not drink to my niece till his 
40 brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. What, 
wench ! Castiliano vulgo ! for here comes Sir 
Andrew Agueface. 

Enter Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 

Sir Andrew. Sir Toby Belch ! how now. Sir 
Toby Belch ! 



SC. III.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 33 

Sir Toby. Sweet Sir Andrew ! 

Sir Andrew. Bless you, fair shrew. 

Maria. And you too, sir. 

Sir Toby. Accost, Sijr Andrew, accost. 

Sir Andrew. What's that .^ 

Sir Toby. My niece's chambermaid. 50 

Sir Andrew. Good Mistress Accost, I desire 
better acquaintance. 

Maria. My name is Mary, sir. 

Sir Andrezu. Good Mistress Mary Accost, — 

Sir Toby. You mistake, knight: "accost" is 
front her, board her, woo her, assail her. 

Sir Andreiv. By my troth, I would not under- 
take her in this company. Is that the meaning 
of " accost ?" 

Maria. Fare you well, gentlemen. 

Sir Toby. And thou let part so, Sir Andrew^ 6c 
would thou mightst never draw sword again. 

Sir Andrew. An you part so, mistress, I would 
I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do 
you think you have fools in hand } 

Maria. Sir, I have not you by the hand. 

Sir Ajidrew. Marry, but j'ou shall have; and 
here 's my hand. 

Maria. Now, sir, " Thought is free : " I pray 
you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar and let 
it drink. 

Sir Andrew. Wherefore, sweet-heart.? what 's 70 
your metaphor } 

Maria. It 's dry, sir. 

Sir Andrew. Why, I think so : I am not such 
an ass but I can keep my hand dry. But what 's 
your jest } 



34 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

Maria. A dry jest, sir. 

Sir Andrew. Are you full of them ? 

Maria. Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers" 
ends : marry, now I let go your hand, I am bar- 
ren. {Exit. 

Sir Toby. O knight, thou lackest a cup of 
80 canar}^ : when did I see thee so put down ? 

Sir Andrew. Never in your life, I think ; un- 
less you see canary put me down. Methinks 
sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian 
or an ordinary man has : but I am a great eater 
of beef, and I believe that does harm to my 
wit. 

Sir Toby. No question. 

Sir Andrew. An I thought that, I'd forswear 
■ it. I '11 ride home to-morrow. Sir Toby. 

Sir Toby. Pourqiioi, my dear knight.'' 
90 Sir Andrew. Whdil \s " poKrgiioi f" do or not 
do } I would I had bestowed that time in the 
tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and 
bear-baiting : oh, had I but followed the arts ! 

Sir Toby. Then hadst thou had an excellent 
head of hair. 

Szr Andrew. Why, would that have mended 
my hair .f* 

Sir Toby. Past question ; for thou seest it will 
not curl by nature. 

Sir Andrew. But it becomes me well enough, 
100 does 't not? 

Sir Toby. Excellent ; it hangs like flax on a 
distaff. 

Sir Andrew. Faith, I '11 home to-morrow. Sir 
Toby : your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, 



sc. III.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 35 

it 's four to one she '11 none of me : the count 
himself here hard by woos her. 

Sir Toby. She '11 none o'the count : she '11 not 
match above her degree, neither in estate, years, 
nor wit; I have heard her swear 't. Tut, there 's 
life in 't man. 

Sir Andrew. I '11 stay a month longer. I am 
a fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world ; 
I delight in masques and revels sometimes alto- no 
gether. 

Sir Toby. Art thou good at these kickshawses, 
knight.'' 

Sir Andrew. As any man in lUyria, whatso- 
ever he be, under the degree of my betters ; and 
yet I will not compare with an old man, 

Sir Toby. What is thy excellence ina'g^lliard, 
knight ? 

Sir Andrew. Faith, I can cut a caper. 

Sir Toby. And I can cut the mutton to 't. 

Sir Ajidrezv. And I think I have the back-trick 
simply as strong as any man in Illyria. I20 

Sir Toby. Wherefore are these things hid ? 
wherefore have these gifts a curtain before 'em ? 
are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall's 
picture .f* why dost thou not, ^go to , church in a 
galliard and come home in acoranto r My very 
walk should be a jig. What dost thou mean.'* 
Is it a world to hide virtues in ? I did think, 
by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was 
formed under a star of a galliard. 

Sir Andreiu. Ay, 't is strong, and it does indif- 
ferent well in a flame-colored stock. Shall we 130 
set about some revels } 



36 TWELFTH NIGHT. [aci i. 

Si7- Toby. What shall we do else ? were we not 
born under Taurus? 

Sir Andf'eiv. Taurus ! That 's sides and heart. 

Si7' Toby. No. sir; it is legs and thighs. Let 
me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha! excel- 
lent ! \Exeu7it. 

Scene IV. The Duke's palace. 
Ente?' Valentine, and Viola in mans attire. 

Val. If the duke continue these favors towards 
you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced ; 
he hath known 3'ou but three days, and already 
you are no stranger. 

Viola. You either fear his humor or my negli- 
gence, that you call in question the continuance 
of his love: is he inconstant, sir, in his favors? 

Val. No, believe me. 

Viola. I thank you. Here comes the count. 

Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. 

10 Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho ? 

Viola. On your attendance, m)^ lord ; here. 
Duke. Stand you a while aloof. Cesario, 
Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd 
To thee the book even of m^'^ secret soul : 
Therefore, good 3'^outh, address thy gait unto her; 
Be not denied access, stand at her doors. 
And tell them there thy fixed foot shall grow 
Till thou have audience. 

Viola. Sure, my noble lord, 

20 If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow 
As it is spoke, she never will admit me. 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 37 

Duke, Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds 
Rather than make unprofited return. 

Viola. Say I do speaic with her, my lord, what 
then ? 

Diikc. Oh, then unfold the passion of my love, 
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith : 
It shall become thee well to act my woes ; 
She will attend it better in thy youth 
Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect. 

Viola. I think not so, my lord. 

Duke. Dear lad, believe it; 30 

For they shall yet belie thy happy years 
That say thou art a man : Diana's lip 
Is not more smooth and rubious ; thy small pipe 
Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and bOund, 
And all is semblative a woman's part. 
I know thy constellation is right apt 
For this affair. Some four or five attend him ; 
All, if you will ; for I myself am best 
When least in company. Prosper well in this, 
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, 40 

To call his fortunes thinC: 

Viola. I '11 do my best 

To woo your lady : {Aside\ yet, a barful strife ! 
''Vhoe'er I woo. myself would be his wife. 

[Exeunt. . 

Scene V. Olivia's Jiouse. 

En/er Maria and Clown. 

Maria. Nay, either tell me where thou hast 
been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a 



38 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

bristle may enter in way of thy excuse : my lady 
will hang thee for thy absence. 

Clown. Let her hang me ; he that is well 
hanged in this world needs to fear no colors. 

Maria. Make that good. 

ClozvJi. He shall see none to fear, 

Maria. A good lenten answer. I can tell thee 
where that saying was born, of " I fear no 
10 colors." 

Clown. Where, good Mistress Mary ? 

Maria. In the wars ; and that may 3'ou be bold 
to say in your foolery. 

Clown. Well. God give them wisdom that have 
it ; and those that are fools, let them use their 
talents. 

Maria. Yet you will be hang'd for being so 
long absent; or, to be turn'd away, — is not that 
as good as a hanging to you ? 

Clown. Many a good hanging prevents a bad 
marriage ; and, for turning awa\^ let summer 
20 bear it out. 

Maria. You are resolute, then ? 

Clown, Not so, neither ; but 1 am resolvv ' on 
two points. 

Maria. That if one break, the other will hold ; 
or, if both break, your gaskins fall. 

Clown. Apt, in good faith ; very apt. Well, go 
thy way ; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou 
wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in 
Illyria. 

Maria. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. 
Here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, 
you were best. [Exit. 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 39 

Clown. Wit, an 't be thy will, put me into 
good fooling ! Those wits that think they have 30 
thee do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure 
I lack thee, may pass for a wise man : for what 
says Quinapalus ? " Better a witty fool than a 
foolish wit." 

Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio. 

God bless thee, lady ! 

Olivia. Take the fool away. 

Cloivn. Do you not hear, fellows .-^ Takeaway 
the lady. 

Olivia. Go to, you 're a dry fool ; I'll no more 
of you : besides, you grow dishonest. 

Clown. Two faults, madonna, that drink and 40 
good counsel will amend : for, give the dry fool 
drink, then is the fool not dry : bid the dishonest 
man mend himself ; if he mend, he is no longer 
dishonest ; if he cannot, let the botcher mend 
him. Any thing that 's mended is but patch'd : 
virtue that transgresses is but patch'd with sin ; 
and sin that amends is but patch'd with virtue. 
If that this simple syllogism will serve, so ; if it 
will not, what remedy ? As there is no true 
cuckold but calamity, so beauty 's a flower. The 
lady bade take away the fool ; therefore, I say 
again, take her away. 50 

Olivia. Sir, I bade thepi^ /t^ke away you. 

Clown. Misprison in ttie highest degree ! Lady, 
cuculhis Jion facit uionachiun ; that 's as much to 
say as I wear not motley in my brain. Good ma- 
donna, give me leave to prove you a fooL 

Olivia. Can you do it ? 



40 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

Clown. Dexteriously, good madonna. 

Olivia. Make your proof. 

Clown. I must catechise you for it, madonna: 
60 good my mouse of virtue, answer me. 

Olivia. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll 
bide your proof. 

Clown. Good madonna, why mournest thou .f* 

Olivia. Good fool, for my brother's death. 

Clow7t. I think his soul is in hell, madonna. 

Olivia. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. 

Clown. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for 
your brother's soul being in heaven. Take away 
the fool, gentlemen. 
70 Olivia. What think you of this fool, Malvolio.'* 
doLh he not mend } 

Mai. Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death 
shake him : infirmity, that decays the wise, doth 
ever make the better fool. 

Clown. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity for 
the better increasing your folly ! Sir Toby will 
be sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass 
his word for two pence that you are no fool. 

Olivia. How say you to that, Malvolio.^ 
80 Mai. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in 
such a barren rascal : I saw him put down the 
other day with an ordinary fool that has no more 
brain than a stone. Look you now, he 's out of 
his guard already ; unless you laugli and minister 
occasion to him, he is gagg'd. I protest, I take 
these wise men, that crow so at these set kind 
of fools, no better than the fools' zanies. 

Olivia. Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, 
and taste with a distempered appetite. To be 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 41 

generous, guiltless, and of free disposition is to 
take those things for bird-bolts that you deem 
cannon bullets : there is no slander in an allow'd 90 
fool, though he do nothing but rail ; nor no rail- 
ing in a known discreet man, though he do noth- 
ing but reprove. 

CIo%v7i. Nov/ Mercury endue thee with leasing, 
for thou speakest well of fools ! 

Re-eiite7' Maria. 

Maria. Madam, there is at the gate a young 
gentleman much desires to speak with you. 

Olivia. From the Count Orsino, is it.^ 

Maria, I know not, madam : 't is a fair young 
man and well attended. 100 

Olivia. Who of my people hold him in delay? 

Maria. Sir Tob^^ madam, your kinsman. 

Olivia. Fetch him otT, I pray you ; he speaks 
nothing but madman : fieonhim ! {Exit Maria.] 
Go you, Malvolio : if it be a suit from the count, 
I am sick or not at home ; what you will, to dis- 
miss it. {Exit Malvolio.] Now you see, sir, 
how 3^our fooling grows old, and people dislike 
it. 

Clown. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as 
if thy eldest son should be a fool ; whose skull no 
jove cram with brains! for, — here he comes, — 
one of thy kin has a most weak pia inaier. 

Enter Sir Toby. 

Olivia, By mine honor, half drunk. What is 
he at the gate, cousin ? 
Sir Toby. A gentleman. 



42 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

Olivia. A gentleman ! what gentleman ? 

Sir Toby. 'T is a gentleman here — a plague o* 
these pickle-herring ! How now, sot ! 

Clown. Good Sir Toby ! 
I20 Olivia. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so 
early by this lethargy ? , , 

Sir Toby. Lechery ! I defy lechery^ There's 
one at the gate. 

Olivia. Ay, marry, what is he ? 

Sir Toby . Let him be the devil, an he will, I 
care not : give me faith, say L Well, it 's all one. 

{Exit. 

Olivia. What 's a drunken man like, fool.'' 

Clown. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a 
madman : one draught above heat makes him a 
fool ; the second mads him ; and a third drowns 
130 him. 

Olivia. Go thou and see the crowner, and let 
him sit o' my coz ; for he 's in the third degree 
of drink, he 's drown'd : go, look after him. 

Clown. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the 
fool shall look to the madman. [Exil. 

Re-enter Malvolio. 

Mai, Madam, yond young fellow swears he will 
speak with you. I told him you were sick ; he 
takes on him to understand so much, and there- 
fore comes to speak with you. I told him you 
were asleep ; he seems to have a foreknowledge 
140 of that too, and therefore comes to speak with 
you. What is to be said to him, lady.'' he 's for- 
tified against any denial. 

Olivia. Tell him he shall not speak with me. 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 43 

Mai. Has been told so ; and he says he 'II 
stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the 
supporter to a bench, but he '11 speak with you. 

Olivia. What kind o' man is he ? 

Mai. Why, of mankind. 

Olivia. What manner of man ? 

Mai. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with 150 
3^ou, will you or no. 

Olivia. Of what personage and years is he.-' 

Mai. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young 
enough for a boy; as a squash is before 't is a 
peascod, or a codling when 't is almost an apple : 
't is with him in standing water, between boy and 
man. He is very well -favored and he speaks 
very shrewishly ; one would think his mother's 
milk were scarce out of him. 

Olivia. Let him approach : call in my gentle- 
woman. 

Mai. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. {Exit- 

Re-enter Maria. 

Olivia. Give me my veil : come, throw it o'er 160 
nxj face. We '11 once more hear Orsino's em- 
bassy. 

Enter Viola and Attendants. 

Viola. The honorable lady of the house, which 
is she .'' 

Olivia. Speak to me ; I shall answer for her. 
Your will? 

Viola. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatch- 
able beauty, — I pray you, tell me if this be the 
lady of the house, for I never saw her : I would 



44 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

be loath to cast away my speech ; for, besides 
that it is excellently well penn'd, I have taken 
great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sus- 
170 tain no scorn; I am very coniptible, even to 
the least sinister usage. 

Olivia. Whence came you, sir.f* 

Viola. I can say little more than I have stud- 
ed, and that question 's out of my part. Good 
gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be 
the lady of ihe house that I may proceed in my 
speech. 

Olivia. Are you a comedian } 

Viola. No, my profound heart : and yet, by 
the very fangs of malice I swear I am not that 
180 I play. Are you the lady of the house } 

Olivia. If I do not usurp myself, I am. 

Viola. Most certain, if you are she, you do 
usurp yourself ; for what is yours to bestow is 
not yours to reserve. But this is from my com- 
mission: I will on with my speech in your 
praise, and then show you the heart of my 
message. 

Olivia. Come to what is important in't : I 
forgive you the praise. 

Viola. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 
190 't is poetical. 

Olivia. It is the more like to be feign 'd : I 
pray you, keep it in. I heard you were saucy at 
my gates, and allow'd your approach rather to 
wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not 
mad, be gone ; if you have reason, be brief : 't is 
not that time of moon with me to malie one in 
so skippmg a dialogue. 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 45 

Maria. Will you hoist sail, sir ? here lies your 
way. 

Viola. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a 
little longer. Some mollification for your giant, 
sweet lady. Tell me your mind : 1 am a mes- 
senger. 200 

Olivia. Sure, 3'^ou have some hideous matter 
to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. 
Speak your office. 

Viola. It alone concerns your ear, I bring no 
overture of war, no taxation of homage : I hold 
the olive in my hand ; my words are as full of 
peace as matter. 

Olivia. Yet you began rudely. What are you.'* 
what would you } 

Viola. The rudeness that hath appear'd in me 
have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I 
am and what I would are as secret as maiden- 210 
hood ; to your ears, divinity, to any other's, prof- ' ' 
anation. 

Olivia. Give us the place alone: we will hear 
this divinity. [Exeunt Maria <2;z^ Attendants. 
Now, sir, what is your text? 

Viola. Most sweet lady, — 

Olivia. A comfortable doctrine, and much may 
be said of it. Where lies your text } 

Viola. In Orsino's bosom. 

Olivia. In his bosom I In what chapter of his 
bosom ? 220 

Viola. To answer by the method, in the first 
of his heart. 

Olivia. Oh, I have read it ; it is heresy. 
Have you no more to say.'* 



46 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

Viola. Good madam, let me see your face. 

Olivia, Have you any commission from your 

lord to nejj:otiate with my face ? You are now 

out of your text : but we will draw the curtain 

and show you the picture. Look you, sir, such 

230a one I was this present: is 't not well done? 

[ U7iveiling. 
Viola. Excellently done, if God did all. 
Olivia. 'T is in grain, sir; 't will endure wind 
and weather. 

Viola. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and 
white 
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : 
Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, 
If you will lead these graces to the grave 
And leave the world no copy. 
Olivia. Oh, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted ; 
240 I will give out divers schedules of my beauty : it 
shall be inVehtori'd, and every particle and uten- 
sil labell'd to my will : as, item, two lips, indif- 
ferent red ; item, two gray eyes, with lids to 
them ; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. 
Were you sent hither to 'praise me ? 

Viola. I see you what you are, you are too 
proud ; 
But, if you were the devil, you are fair. 
My lord and master loves you : Oh, such love 
Could be but recompens'd, though you were 

crown 'd 
The nonpareil of beauty ! 

Olivia. . How does he love me ? 

250 Viola. With adorations, with fertile tears, 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 47 

With groans that thunder love, with sighs of 
fire. 

Olivia, Your lord does know my mind ; I can- 
not love him : 
Yet T suppose him virtuous, know him noble, 
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ; 
In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd and valiant; 
And in dimension and the shape of nature 
A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him ; 
He might have took his answer long ago. 

Viola. If I did love you in my master's flame, 
With such a suffering, such a deadly life, 260 

In your denial I would find no sense ; 
I would not understand it. 

Olivia. Why, what would you ? 

Viola,- Make me a willow cabin at your gate, 
And call upon mysoiil within the house ; 
Write loyal cantons of contemned love 
And sing them loud even in the dead of night ; 
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, 
And make the babbling gossip of the air 
Cry out " Olivia ! " Oh, you should not rest 



Between the elements of air and earth, 27g 

Olivia. You misfht do much. 



B^'^you should pity me 



'&' 



What is your parentage? , -fi*'fix.^ 

Viola. Above my fortunes, yet rny state is 
well : 

I am a gentleman. 

Olivia, Get you to your lord ; 

I cannot love him : let him send no more ; 

Unless, perchance, you come to me again 

To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well : 



48 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act i. 

I thank you for your pains : spend this for me. 
Viola. I am no fee'd post, lady ; keep your 
purse : Xm''-^ . • '"' 

280 My master, not myself, lacks recompense. 

Love make his heart of flint that you shall love ; 
And let your fervor, like my master's, be 
Plac'd in contempt ! Farewell, fair crueltv. 

\Exit\ 
Olivia. " What is your parentage } " 
" Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : 
I am a gentleman." I '11 be sworn thou art ; 
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and 

spirit 
Do give thee five-fold blazon : not too fast : soft, 

soft ! 
Unless the master were the man. How now! 
290 Even so quickly may one catch the plague.'* 
Methinks I feel this 3^outh's perfections 
With an invisible and subtle stealth 
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. 
What ho, Mai vol io ! 

Re-enter Malvolio. 

Mai, Here, madam, at your service. 

Olivia. Run after that same peevish messen- 
ger, 
The county's man : he left this ring behind him, 
Would I or not : tell him I '11 none of it. 
Desire him not to flatter with his lord, 
Nor hold him up with hopes ; I 'm not for him : 
300 If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, 
I '11 give him reasons for 't : hie thee, Malvolio. 

Mai. Madam, I will. [Exit. 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 49 

Olivia. I do I know not what, and fear to find 
Mine eye too great a fiatterer for my mind. 
Fate, show thy force : ourselves we do not owe ; 
What is decreed must be, and be this so. [Exit. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. The Sea-coast. 
Enter Antonio and Sebastian. 

Ant. Will you stay no longer.^ nor will you 
not that I go with you } 

Seb. By your patience, no. My stars shine 
darkly over me : the malignancy of my fate 
might perhaps distemper 5-ours ; therefore I shall 
crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils 
alone : it were a bad recompense for your love to 
lay any of them on you. 

Ant. Let me yet know of you whither you are 
bound. 

Seb. No, sooth, sir : my determinate voyage s 
mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so 10 
excellent a touch of modesty that you will not 
extort from me what I am willing, to keep in ; 
therefore it charges me in manners the rather to 
express myself. You must know of me then, 
Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called 
Roderigo. My father was that Sebastian of Mes- 
saline whom I know you have heard of. He left 
behind him myself and a sister, both born in an 
hour: if the heavens had been pleased, would 
we had so ended ! but you, sir, altered that ; for 



50 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

some hour before you took .me from the breach 
20 of the sea was my sister drowned. 

Ant. Alas the day ! 

Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much 
resembled me, was yet of man}^ accounted beau- 
tiful : but, though I could not with such esti- 
mable wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far 
I will boldly publish her, — she bore a mind that 
envy could not but call fair. She is drowned 
alread\% sir, with salt water, though I seem 10 
drown her remembrance again with more. 

Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. 
30 Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. 

Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, 
let me be your servant. 

Seb. If ^'^ou will not undo what you have done, 
that is, kill him whom 3^ou have recovered, de- 
sire it not. Fare ye welj at once : my bosom is 
full of kindness, and I am yet so near the man- 
ners of my mother that upon the least occasion 
more mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound 
to the Count Orsino's court: farewell. [Exit. 

Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with 
thee ! 
40 I ve many en'mies in Orsino's court, 
Else would I very shortly see thee there. 
But, come what may, I do adore thee so 
That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. 

\Exit. 



sen.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 5 1 



Scene II. A street. 
Enter Viola, Wpas^oiao following. 

Mai. Were not you even now with the Coun- 
tess Olivia ? 

Viola. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I 
have since arrived but hither, 

Mai. She returns this ring to you, sir : you 
might have saved me my pains, to have taken it 
away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you 
should put your lord into a desperate assurance 
she will none of him : and one thing more, that 
you be never so hardy to come again in his af- 
fairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of 
this. Receive it so, ■ 10 

Viola. She took the ring of me : I '11 none 
of it. ; 

Mai. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her 
and her will is, it should be so returned : if it be 
worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye ; if 
not, be it his that finds it. [Exit, 

Viola. I left no ring with her: what means 
this lady? 
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm d 

her ! 
She made good view of me; indeed so much 
That sure methought her eyes had lost her 

tongue. 
For she did speak in starts distractedly. 20 

She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion 
Invites me in this churlish messenger. 
None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her nor.e. 



52 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

I am the man : if it be so, as 't is, 

Poor lady, she were better love a dream. 

Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness. 

Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. 

How easy is it for the proper-false 

In women's waxen hearts to set their forms ! 
30 Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we ! 

For, such as we are made of, such we be. 

How will this fadge .f^ my master loves her 
dearly; 

And I, poor monster, fond as much on him ; 

And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. 

What will become of this? As I am man, 

My state is desperate for my master's love ; 

As 1 am woman, — now alas the day ! — 

What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe ! 

O Time ! thou must untangle this, not I ; 
40 It is too hard a knot for me t' untie ! \_Exit. 

Scene III. Oianik^'^ house. 
Enter Sir Toby a7id Sir Andrew. 

Sir Toby. Approach, Sir Andrew : not to be 
a-bed after midnight is to be up betimes ; and 
diluciilo siirgere, thou knqw'st, — 

Sir Andrew. Nay, by niy troth, I know not : 
but I know to be up late is to be up late. 

Sir Toby. A false conclusion: I hate it as an 
unfilled can. To be up after midnight and to go 
to bed then is early : so that to go to bed after 
midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does not our 
life consist of the four elements } 



sc. III.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 53 

Sz'r Afidrjw. Faith, so they say: but I think it 10 
rather consists of eating and drinking. 

Sir Toby. Thou'rt a scholar ; let us therefore 
eat and drink. Marian, I say ! a stoup of wine \ 

Enter Clown. 

Sir Andrew. Here comes the fool, i' faith. 

Clown. How now, my hearts ! did you never 
see the picture of " we three " } 

Sir Toby. Welcome, ass. Now let 's have a 
catch. 

Sir Andrew. By my troth, the fool has an ex- 
cellent breast. I had rather than forty shillings I 
had such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, 
as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gra- 20 
cious fooling last night, when thou spokest of 
Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equi- 
noctial of Queubus : 'twas very good, i' faiih. I 
sent thee sixpence for thy leman : hadst \X.} 

Cloivn. I did impeticos thy gratillit}'; for Mal- 
volio's nose is no whipstock : my lady has a 
white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle- 
ale houses. 

Sir Andrew. Excellent! why, this is the best 
fooling, when all is done. Now, a song. 30 

Sir Toby. Come on ; there is sixpence for you : 
let 's have a song. 

Sir Andrew. There's a testril of me too: if 
one knight give a — 

Clow7i. Would you have a love-song, or a song 
of good life ? 

Sir Toby. A love- song, a love-song. 

Sir Andrew. Ay, ay : I care not for good life. 



54 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

Clown. {Sings^ 

O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? 
Oh, stay and hear; your true love 's coming, 
40 That can sing both high and low : 

Trip no further, pretty sweeting; 
Journeys end in lovers meeting, 
Every wise man's son doth know. 

Sir Andrew. Excellent good, i' faith. 
Sir Toby. Good, good. 
Clown. {^Sings, ] 

What is love? 't is not hereafter; 
Present mirth hath present laughter ; 

What 's to come is still unsure : 
In delay there lies no plenty ; 
CO Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, 

Youth 's a stuff will not endure. 

Sir Andrew. A mellifluous voice, as I am true 
knight. 

Sir Tohy. A contagious breath. 

Sir Andrew. Very sweet and contagious, i' 
faith. 

Sir Toby. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in 
contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance 
indeed } shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch 
that will draw three souls out of one weaver } 
shall we do that ? 

Sir Andrew. An you love me, let 's do 't : I am 
60 dog at a catch. 

Clow7i. By 'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch 
well. 

Sir Andrew. Most certain. Let our catch be, 
" Thou knave." 



sc. III.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 55 

Clown. " Hold thy peace, thou knave," knight? 
I shall be constrained in 'i to call thee knave, 
knight. 

Sir Andrew. 'T is not the first time I have con- 
strained one to call me knave. Begin, fool : it 
begins " Hold thy peace." 

Clown. I shall never begin if I hold my peace. 

Sir Andrew. Good, i' faith. Come, begin. jo 

[Catch szmg. 

Enter Maria. 

Maria. What a caterwauling do you keep here \ 
If my lady have not called up her steward Mal- 
volio and bid him turn you out of doors, never 
trust me. 

Sir Toby. My lady's a Catalan, we are politi- 
cians, Malvolio 's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and " Three 
merry men be we." Am not I consanguineous .-* 
am I not of her blood ? Tillyvally. Lady ! 
YSi7i!^s\ " There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, 
lady!" 

Clown. Beshrew me, the knight 's in admirable 
fooling. 

Sir Andrew. A^^ he does well enough if he be 80 
disposed, and so do I too : he does it with a bet- 
ter grace, but I do it more natural. 

Sir Toby. [Sings\ " Oh, the twelfth dav of De- 
cember," — 

Maria. For the love o' God, peace ! 

Efiter Malvolio. 

Mai. My masters, are you mad } or what are 
you ? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty. 



56 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

but to gabble like. tinkers at this time of night ? 
Do ye make an alehouse of my lady.'sJ^OH^^' .^^.^^ ■ 
ye squeak out your coziers' catches without any' 
90 mitigation or remorse of voice ? Is there no 

respect of place, persons, nor time in you ? 
, Si7- Toby. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. 

\<^^"%eckup! 

^ Mai. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My 
lady bade me tell you that, though she harbors 
you as her kinsman, she 's nothing allied to 
your disorders. If you can separate yourself 
and your misdemeanors, you are welcome to the 
house ; if not, an it would please 5'Ou to take 
leave of her, she is very willing to bid you fare- 
well. 
100 Sir Toby. " Farewell, dear heart, since I must 
needs be gone." 

Maria. Nay, good Sir Toby. 

Clown. " His eyes do show his days are almost 
done." 

Mai. Is 't even so ? 

Sir Toby. " But I will never die." 

Clown. Sir Tob^^ there you lie. 

Mai. This is much credit to you. 

Sir Toby. " Shall I bid him go } " 

Clown. " What an if you do ? " 

Sir Toby. " Shall I bid him go, and spare not ? " 
110 Clown. " Oh, no, no, no, no, you dare not ! " 

Sir Toby. Out o' time, sir : ye lie. Art any 
more than a steward ? Dost thou think, because 
thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cak^s 
and ale.^ 



sc. III.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 57 

Clown. Yes, by St. Anne, and ginger shall be 
hot i' the mouth too. 

Sir Toby. Thou 'rt i' the right. Go. sir, rub 
your chain with crumbs. A stoup of wine, 
Maria ! 

MaL Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's 
favor at any thing more than contempt, you. 120 
would not give means for this uncivil riile : she 
shall know of it, by this hand. {Exit. 

Maria. Go shake your ears. 

Sir Andrew. 'T were as good a deed as to drink 
when a man 's a-hungry, to challenge him the 
field, and then to break promise with him and 
make a fool of him. 

Sir Toby. Do 't, knight : I '11 write thee a chal- 
lenge; or I '11 deliver thy indignation to him by 
word of mouth. 

Maria. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night : 
since the youth of the count^fc|gs to-day with 130 
my lady, she is much out of quiet. For Mon- 
sieur Malvolio, let me .alone with him ; if I do 
not gull him into a nayword and make him a 
common recreation, do not think I have wit 
enough to lie straight in my bed : I know I can 
do it. 

Sir Toby. Posse'ss us, possess us ; tell us some- 
thing of him. ^ 

Maria. Marry, sir, sometimes^ he is a kind of 
puritan. 

Sir Andrew. Oh, if I thought that, I 'd beat 
him like a dog ! 140 

Sir Toby. What, for being a puritan ? thy ex- 
quisite reason, dear knight. 



58 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

SiJ' Andrew. I have no exquisite reason for 't, 
but I have reason good enough, 

Maria. The devil a puritan that he is, or anv 
thing constantly, but a time-pleas^r ; an affec- 
tioned ass, that cons state without book and 
utters it by great swaths : the best persuaded of 
himself, so crammed, as he thinks, with excel- 
lencies that it is his grounds of faith that all that 
1 50 look on him love him ; and on that vice in him 
will m\^ revenge find notable cause to work. 

Sir Toby. What wilt thou do? 

Maria. I will drop in his way some ^o,bscure 
epistles of love; wherein, by the color" of his 
beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of liis 
gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and 
complexion, he siiall find himself most feelingly 
personated, I can write very like my lady your 
niece: on a forgotten matter we can hardly 
make distinction of our hands. 
160 Sir Toby. Excellent! I smell a device. 

Sir Andreiu. I have 't in my nose too. 

Sir Toby. .He shall think by the letters that 
thou wnlt drop that thev come from my niece, 
and that she 's in love with < im. 

Maria. My purpose is indeed a horse of that 
color. 

Sir Andrew. And your horse now would make 
him an ass. 

Maria. Ass, I doubt not. 

Sir Andrew. Oh, 't will be admirable! 
170 Maria. Sport royal, I warrant you : I know 
my phvsic will work with him. I will plant you 
two, and let the fool make a third, where he 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 59 

shall find the letter : observe his construction of y , 
it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the *, Jy' 
event. Farewell. \'\ExitT^.>:f' 

Sir Toby. Good-night, JP^nthesilea. ^r . 

Sir Andrew. Before me, she 's a good wench. 

Sir Toby. She 's a beagle, true-bred, and one 
that adores me : what o' that? 

Sir Andrew. I was adored once too. 

Sir Toby. Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst 180 
need send for more money. 

Sir Andrew. If I cannot recover your niece, I 
am a foul way out. 

Sir Toby. Send for money, knight : if thou 
hast her not i' the end, call me cut. 

Sir Andrew. If I do not, never trust me, take 
it how you will. 

Sir Toby. Come, come, I '11 go burn some sack ; 
't is too late to go to bed now: come, knight; 
come, knight. [ExeiinL 

Scene IV. TAe Duke's palace. 
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others. 

Duke. Give me some music. Now, good mor- 
row, friends. 
Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, 
That old and antique song we heard last night : 
Methought it did relieve my passion much, 
More than light airs and recollected terms 
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times : 
Come, but one verse. 

Otrio. He is not here, so please your lordship, 
that should sinsf it. 



6o TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

lo Duke. Who was it? 

Curio. Feste, the jester, my lord ; a fool that 
the lady Olivia's father took much delight in. 
He is about the house. 
Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the 
while. {Exit CURIO. Music plays. 

Come hither, boy : if ever thou shalt love, 
In the sweet pangs of it remember me; 
For such, as I am all true lovers are, 
Unstaid and skittish in alljLmotions else 
Save in the constant image of the creature 
That is belov'd. How dost thou like this tune.^ 
20 Viola. It gives a very echo to the seat 
Where Love is throned. 

Duke. Thou dost speak masterly : 
My life upon 't, young though thou art, thine eye 
Hath stay'd upon some favor that it loves : 
Hath it not, boy? 

Viola. A little, by your favor, 

Duke. What kind of woman is 't? 
Viola. Of your com- 

plexion. 
Duke. She is not worth thee, then. What 

years, i' faith? 
Viola. About your j'^ears, my lord. 
Duke. Too old, by heaven : let still the woman 
take 
30 An elder than herself: so wears she to him, 
So sways she level in her husband's heart : 
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves. 
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm. 
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn. 
Than women's are. 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 6i 

Viola. I think it well, my lord. 

Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thy- 
self . 
Or thy afifection cannot hold th e bent; ffiJ^J^ ' 
For women are as roses, whose tair tlower, 
Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. 

Viola. And so they are : alas, that they are so ; 40 
To die even when they to perfection grow I 

Re-enter CuRio and Clown. 

Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last 
night. 
Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain ; 
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun 
And the free maids that weave their thread with 

bones . ,^. . . . 

Do use to chant it : it is silly sooth, 
And dallies with the innocence of love. 
Like the oldVage. ' "^'^ -^ 

Clown. Are you ready, sir ? 

Duke. Ay; prithee, sing. \Mtisic. 50 

SONG. 

Clown. Come away, come away, death, 

And in sad cypress let me be laid ; 
Fly away, fly away, breath ; 

I am slain by a fair, cruel maid. 
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew. 

Oh, prepare it ! 
My part of death, no one so true 
Did share it. 



62 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

Not a flower, not a flower sweet, 
60 On my black coffin let there be strown ; 

Not a friend, not a friend greet 

My poor corpse, where my bones shall 
be thrown : 
A thousand thousand sighs to save. 

Lay me, oh, where 
Sad true lover never find my grave. 
To weep there ! 

Duke. There 's for thy pains. 
Clown. No pains, sir ; I take pleasure in sing- 
ing, sir. 

Duke. 1 '11 pay thy pleasure then. 
70 Clown. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, 
one time or another. 

Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. 
Clown. Now the melancholy god protect thee ; 
and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable 
taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal. I would 
have men of such constancy put to sea that 
their business might be every thing and their 
intent every where ; for that 's it that always 
makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell. 

[Exit. ' 
Duke. Let all the rest give place. 

[Curio and Attendants retire. 
Once more, Cesario, 
Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty: 
80 Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, 
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands ; 
The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 63 

Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune ; 
But 't is that miracle and queen of gems 
That nature pranks her in attracts my soul. 

Viola. But if she cannot love you, sir? 

Duke. I cannot be so answer'd. 

Viola. Sooth, but you must. 

Say that some lady, as perhaps there is. 
Hath for your love as great a pang of heart 
As you have for Olivia : you cannot love her; 90 
You tell her so ; must she not then be answer'd ? 

Duke. There is no woman's sides 
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion 
As love doth give my heart ; no woman's heart 
So big to hold so much ; they lack retention. 
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite, 
No mjDtion of the liver, but the palate. 
That sufifer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt ; 
But mine is all as hungry as the sea 
And can digest as much : make no compare ico 

Between that love a woman can bear me 
And that I owe Olivia. 

Viola. Ay, but I know — 

Duke. What dost thou know? 

Viola. Too well what love women to men may 
owe : 
In faith, they are as true of heart as we. 
My father had a daughter loved a man, 
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, 
I should your lordship. 

Duke. And what 's her history ? 

Viola. A blank, my lord. She never told her 
love, no 



64 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 
Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought, 
And with a green and yellow melancholy 
She sat like patience on a monument, 
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ? 
We men may say more, swear more ; but indeed 
Our shows are more than will ; for still we prove . 
Much in our vows, but little in our love. 

Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy ? 

Viola. I 'm all the daughters of my father's 
1 20 house. 

And all the brothers too : and yet I know not. 
Sir, shall 1 to this lady.^ 

Duke. Ay, that 's the theme. 

To her in haste ; give her this jewel ; say 
My love can give no place bide no denay. 

\Exeunt. 

Scene V. Olivia's garden. 
Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. 

Sir Toby. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian. 

Fabian. Nay, I '11 come : if I lose a scruple of 
this sport, let me be boiled to death with melan- 
choly. 

Sir Toby. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the 
niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some nota- 
ble shame } 

Fabian. I would exult, man : you know he 
brought me out o' favor with my lady about a 
bear-baiting here. 

Sir Toby. To anger him we '11 have the bear 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 65 

again; and we will fool him black and blue: 10 
shall we not, Sir Andrew^? 

Sir Andrew. An we do not, it 's pity of our 
lives. 

Sir Toby. Here comes the little villain. 

Etiter Maria. 

How now^ my metal of India ! 

Maria. Get ye all three into the box-tree : 
Malvolio 's coming down this walk : he has beea 
yonder i' the sun practicing behavior to his own 
shadowthis half-hour : observe him, for the love 
of mockery ; for I know this letter will make a 
contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name 
of jesting ! Lie thou there {throws down a let- 20 
te7'\ ; for here comes the trout that must be 
caught with tickling. [Exit. 

Ejtter Malvolio. 

Mai. 'T is but fortune ;^all is fortune. Maria 
once told me she did anect me: and I have 
heard herself come thus near that, should she 
fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Be- 
sides, she uses me with a more exalted respect 
than anyone else that follows her. What should 
I think on 't ? 

Sir Toby. Here 's an overweening rogue ! 

Fabian. Oh, peace! ContemplatiAn .rpakes a 30, 
rare turkey-cock of him : how he Jets^ Hinder his 
advanced plumes! 

Sir Andrew. 'Slight, I could so beat the 
rogue ! 

Sir Toby. Peace, I say. 



66 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

Mai. To be Count Malvolio ! 

Sir Toby. Ah, rogue ! 

Sir Andrew. Pistol him, pistol him. 

Sir Toby. Peace, peace ! 

Mai. There is example for 't ; the lady of the 
40 Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. 

Sir Andrew. Fie on him, Jezebel ! 

Fabian. Oh, peace ! now he 's deeply in : look 
how imagination blows him. 

Mai. Having been three months married to 
her, sitting in my state, — 

Sir Toby. Oh, for a stone-bow, to hit him in 
the eye ! 

Mai. — calling my officers about me, in my 
branched velvet gown ; having come from a day- 
bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping, — 
50 Sir Toby. Fire and brimstone! 

Fabian. Oh, peace, peace ! 

Mai. — and then to have the humor of state; 
and, after a demure travel of regard, telling them 
I know my place as I would they should do 
theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby. 

Sir Toby. Bolts and shackles ! 

Fabian. Oh, peace, peace, peace ! now, now. 

Mai. Seven of my people, with an obedient 

start, make out for him : I frown the while ; and 

perchance wind up my watch, or play with my — 

60 some rich jewel. Toby approaches ; courtesies 

there to me, — 

Sir Toby. Shall this fellow live } 

Fabian. Though our silence be drawn from us 
with cars, yet peace. 

Mai. — I extend my hand to him thus, quench- 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 67 

ing my familiar smile with an austere regard of 
control, — 

Sir Toby. And does not Toby take you a blow 
o' the lips then ? 

Mai. — saying, "Cousin Toby, my fortunes 
having cast me on your niece give me this pre- 
rogative of speech," — 70 

Sir Toby. What, what? 

Mai. — " you must amend your drunkenness."' 

Sir Toby. Out, scab ! 

Fabian. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews 
of our plot. 

Mai. " Besides, you waste the treasure of your 
time with a foolish knight," — 

Sir Andrew. That 's me, I warrant you. 

Mai. — " one Sir x^ndrew." 

Sir Aiidrezv. I knew 't was I ; for many do call 
me fool. 

Mai. What employment have we here } 80 

[ Taking iip the letter. 

Fabian. Now is the woodcock near the gin. 

Sir Toby. Oh, peace i and the spirit of humors 
intimate reading aloud to him ! 

Mai. By my life, this is my lady's hand : these 
be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus 
makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of 
question, her hand. 

Sir Andrew. Her C's, her U's, and her T's : 
why that } 

Mai. [Reads] " To the unknown beloved, this, 
and my good wishes : " — her very phrases ! By 
your leave, wax. Soft ! and the imptessure her 



68 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

Qo Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: 't is my 
lady. To whom should this be ? 
Fabian. This wins him, liver and all. 
MaL \^Reads\ 

Jove knows I love : 

But who ? 
Lips, do not move ; 

No man must know. 

"No man must know." What follow^s ? the 

numbers altered ! 
"No man must know;" if this should be thee, 
Malvolio? 
Sir Toby. Marry, hang thee, brock! 
Mai. \^Reads\ 

I may command where I adore ; 

But silence, like a Lucrece knife. 
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore : 

M, O, A, 1, dotl) sway m)^ life. 

Fabian. K fustian riddle! 

Sir Toby. Excellent wench, say I. 

Mai. " M, O, A, I, doth sway my life." Nay, 
but first, let me see, let me see, let me see. 

Fabian. What dish o' poison has she dressed 
him .'' 

Sir Toby. And with w^hat wing the staniel 
checks at it ! 

Mai. ," I may command where I adore." Wh)', 
no she may command me: I serve her: she is my 
lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capac- 
ity; there is no obstruction in this: and the 
end, — what should that alphabetical position 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 69 

portend ? If I could make that resemble some- 
thing in me,— Softly ! M, O, A, I,— 

Sir Toby. Oh, ay, make up that ; he is now at 
a cold scent. 

Fabian. Sowter will cry upon 't for all this, 
though it be as rank as a fox. 

Mai. M, — Malvolio ; M, — why, that begins my 
name. 

Fabian. Did not I say he would work it out ? 120 
the cur is excellent at faults. 

Mai. M, — but then there is no consonancy in 
the sequel ; that suffers under probation : A 
should follow, but O does. 

Fabian. And O shall end, I hope. 

Sir Toby. Ay, or I '11 cudgel him, and make 
him cry Of 

Mai. And then / comes behind. 

Fabiati. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, 
you might see more detraction at your heels 
than fortunes before you. 

Mai. M, O, A, I ; this simulation is not as the 130 
former: and yet, to crush this a little, it would 
bow to me, for every one of these letters are in 
my name. Soft ! here follows prose. 
[Reads] " If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In 
my stars I am above thee ; but be not afraid of 
greatness : some are born great, some achieve 
greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 
'em. Thy Fates open their hands ; let thy blood 
and spirit embrace them ; and, to inure thyself 
to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble 140 
slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a 
kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue 



70 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act ii. 

tang arguments of state ; put thyself into the 
trick of singularity : she thus advises thee that 
sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy 
yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever 
cross-gartered : I say, remember. Go to, thou 
art made if thou desirest to be so; if not, let 
me see thee a steward still, the fellow of serv- 

150 ants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fin- 
gers. Farewell. She that would alter services 
with thee, The Fortunate-Unhappy." 

Daylight and champain discovers not more : this 
is open. I will be proud, I will read politic au- 
thors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash ofT gross 
acquaintance, I will be point-devise the very 
man. I do not now fool myself to let imagina- 
tion jade me; for every reason excites to this, 
that my lady loves me. She did commend my 
yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg 
being cross-gartered ; and in this she manifests 
herself to my love, and with a kind of injunc- 
tion drives me to these habits of her liking. I 
thank my stars I am happy. I will be strange, 

160 stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, 
even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove and 
my stars be praised ! Here is yet a postscript. 
\Reads\ "Thou canst not choose but know who 
I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear 
in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well; 
therefore in my presence still smile, dear my 
sweet, I prithee." 

Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do 

everything that thou wilt have me. [Exz'L 

Fabian. I will not give my part of this sport 



sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 71 

for a pension of thousands to be paid from the 
Sophy. 170 

Sir 'Toby. I could marry this wench for this de- 
vice, 

Sir Andretu. So could I too. 

Sir Toby. — and ask no other dowry with her 
but such another jest. 

Sir Andrew. Nor I neither. 

Fabiaji. Here comes my noble gull-catcher. 
Re-enter Maria. " 

Sir Toby. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck ? 

Sir Andrew. Or o' mine either ? 

Sir Toby. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, 
and become thy bond-slave } 180 

Sir Andrew. V faith, or I either? 

Sir Toby. Why, thou hast put him in such a 
dream that, when the image of it leaves him. he 
must run mad. 

Maria. Nay, but say true ; does it work upon 
him ? 

Sir Toby. Like aqua-vitae with a midwife. 

Maria. If you will then see the fruits of the 
sport, mark his first approach before my lady : 
he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 't is 
a color she abhors ; and cross-gartered, a fashion 
she detests; and he will smile upon her, which 
will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, ic^j 
beii.g addicted to a melancholy as she is, that 
it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt. 
If you will see it, follow me. 

Sir Toby. To the gates of Tartar, thou most 
excellent devil of wit ! 

Sir Andrew. I '11 make one too. {Exeunt. 



72 TWELFTH NIGHT, [act hi. 



ACT III. 

« 

Scene I. Olivia's ^rt:r<f<??z. 
Enter Viola, and Clown with a tabor. 

Viola. Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost 
thou live by thy tabor? 

Clowfi. No, sir, I hve by the church. 

Viola. Art thou a churchman ? 

Clo'W7i. No such matter, sir : I do hve by the 
church; for I do hve at my house, and my 
house doth stand by the church. 

Viola. So thou mayst say the king Hes by a 
beggar, if a beggar dwell near him ; or, the 
church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand 
loby the church. 

Clown. You have said, sir. To see this age ! A 
sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit : 
how quickly the wrong side may be turned out- 
ward ! 

Viola. Nay, that's certain; they that dally 
nicely with words may quickly make them wan- 
ton. 

Clown. I would, therefore, my sister had had 
no name, sir. 

Viola. Why, man ? 

Clown. Why, sir, her name 's a word ; and to 
20 dally with that word might make my sister wan- 
ton. But indeed words are very rascals since 
bonds disgraced them. 

Viola. Thy reason, man ? 

Clown. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 73 

words ; and words are grown so false I am loath 
to prove reason with them, 

Viola. I warrant thou art a merry fellow and 
carest for nothing. 

Clow7i. Not so, sir, I do care for something ; but 
in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you : if 
that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would 
make you invisible. 30 

Viola. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool } 

Clown. No indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no 
folly : she will keep no fool, sir, till she be mar- 
ried ; and fools are as like husbands as pilchards 
are to herrings ; the husband 's the bigger: I am 
indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. 

Viola, I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. 

Clow?i. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb 
like the sun, it shines everywhere. I would be 
sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with 
your master as with my mistress : I think I saw 40 
your wisdom there. 

Viola. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I '11 no 
more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. 

Clown. Now Jove, in his next commodity of 
hair, send thee a beard ! 

Viola. By my troth, 1 '11 tell thee 1 am almost 
sick for one ; \Aside\ though I would not have it 
grow on my chin. Is thy lady within ? 

Clown. Would not a pair of these have bred, 
sir? 

Viola. Yes, being kept together and put to use. 50 

Clown. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phry- 
gia, sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus. 

Viola. I understand you, sir ; 't is well begged. 



74 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act hi. 

Clown. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, 
begging bur a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. 
My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them 
whence you come ; who you are' and what \ ou 
would are out of my welkin, I might say " ele- 
ment," but the word is overworn. ^Exit. 
Viola. This fellow is wise enough to play the 
fool; 
^o And to do that well craves a kind of wit : 

He must observe their mood on whom he jests. 

The quality of persons, and the time, 

Not, like the haggard, check at every feather 

That comes before his eye. This is a practice 

As full of labor as a wise man's art : 

For folly that he wisely shows is fit ; 

But wise men, foll3^-fall'n, quite taint their wit. 

Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. 

Sir Toby. Save you, gentleman. 

Viola. And you, sir. 
JO Sir Andrew. Dieu vous garde., monsieur. 

Viola. Et vous aussi ; voire serinleiir. 

Sir Andrew. I hope, sir, you are; and I am 
yours. 

Sir Toby. Will you encounter the house ? my 
niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade 
be to her. 

Viola. I am bound to your niece, sir ; I mean 
she is the list of my voyage. 

Sir Toby. Taste your legs, sir; put them to 
motion. 

Viola. My legs do better understand me, sir. 



sc. I,] TWELFTH NIGHT, 75 

than I understand what you mean by bidding 
me taste my legs. 

Sir Toby. I mean to go, sir, to enter. 80 

Viola. I will answer you with gait and en- 
trance. But we are prevented. 

Enter Olivia and Maria. 

Most excellent, accomplished lady, the heavens 
rain odors on you ! 

Sir Atidrew. That youth 's a rare courtier: 
" Rain odors; " well. 

Viola. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to 
your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear. 

Sir Andrew. "Odors," "pregnant" and 
" vouchsafed : " I '11 get 'em all three all ready. 90 

Olivia. Let the garden door be shut, and leave 
me to my hearing. \_Exetiiit SirToby, Sir An- 
drew, and Maria.] Give me your hand, sir. 

Viola. My duty, madam, and most humble 
service. 

Olivia. What is your name ? 

Viola. Cesario is your servant's name, fair 
princess. 

Olivia. My servant, sir! 'T was never merry 
world 
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: 
You 're servant to the Count Orsino, youth. 

Viola. And he is yours, and his must needs 
be yours : 100 

Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. 

Olivia. For him, I think not on him: for his 
thoughts, 



76 rWELFTH NIGHT. [act hi. 

Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with 
nie \ 
Viola. Madam, I come to whet your gentle 
thoughts 
On his behalf. 

Olivia. Oh, by your leave, I pray you, 

I bade you never speak again of him : 
But, would you undertake anotlier suit, 
I 'd rather hear you to solicit that 
Than music from the spheres. 

Viola. Dear lady, — 

Olivia. Give me leave, beseech 3^ou. I did 
no send, 

After the last enchantment you did here, 
A ring in chase of you : so did I abuse 
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you : 
Under your hard construction must I sit, 
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning, 
Which you knew none of yours: what might 

you think } 
Have you not set mine honor at the stake 
And baited it with all th' unmuzzled thoughts 
That tyrannous heart can think.? To one of 
your receiving 
1 20 Enough is shown : a cypress, not a bosom, 
Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak. 
Viola. I pity you. 

Olivia. That 's a degree to love. 

Viola. No, not a grise ; for 't is a vulgar proof 
That very oft we pity enemies. 

Olivia. Why, then, methinks 't is time to tmile 
again. 
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud ! 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 77 

If one should be a prey, how much the better 
To fall before the lion than the wolf ! 

\Clock strikes. 
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time. 
Be not afraid, good youth, [ will not have you : 130 
And yet. when wit and youth is come to harvest, 
Your wife is like to reap a proper man : 
Tiiere lies your way, due west. 

Viola. Then westward -he 

Grace and good disposition 'tend your ladyship. 
You '11 nothing, madam, to my lord by me.^^ 

Olivia. Stay: 
I prithee, tell me what thou think'st of me. 

Viola. That you do think you are not what 
you are. 

Olivia. If I think so, I think the same of you. 

Viola. Then think you right : I am not what I 140 
am. 

Olivia. I would you were as I would have you 
be! 

Viola. Would it be better, madam, than 1 am ? 
I wish it might, for now I am your fool. 

Olivia. Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beau- 
tiful 
In the contempt and anger of his lip ! 
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon 
Than love that would seem hid : love's night is 

noon. 
Cesario, by the roses of the spring, 
By maidhood, honor, truth, and everything, 
I love thee so that, maugre all thy pride, 150 

Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. 
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause. 



78 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act hi 

For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause ; 
But rather reason thus with reason fetter, 
Love sought is good, but given unsought is 
better. 
Viola. By innocence I swear, and by my 
youth, 
I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth. 
And that no woman has ; nor never none 
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone. 
I CO And so adieu, good madam : never more 
Will I my master's tears to you deplore. 
Olivia. Yet come again ; for thou perhaps 
mayest move 
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene II. A room in Olivia's house. 

Ejiter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. 

Sir Ajidrew. No, faith, I '11 not stay a jot 

longer. 
Sir Toby. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy 

reason. 
Fabian. You must needs yield your reason, Sir 

Andrew. 
Sir Andrew. Marry, I saw your niece do more 
favors to the count's serving-man than ever she 
bestowed upon me ; I saw 't i'the orchard. 

Sir Toby. Did she see thee the while, old boy ? 
tell me that. 

Sir Andrew. As plain as I see you now. 
lo Fabian. This was a great argument of love in 
her toward you. 



sc. 11.] TWELFTH NIGHT, 79 

Sir Andrew. 'Slight, will you make an ass o' 
me? 

Fabian. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the 
oaths of judgment and reason. 

Sir Toby. And they have been grand-jurymen 
since before Noah was a sailor. 

Fabian. She did show favor to the youth in your 
sight only to exasperate you, to awake your dor- 
mouse valor, to put fire in your heart and brim- 
stone in your liver. You should then have ac- 20 
costed her ; and with some excellent jests, fire- 
new from the mint, you should have banged the 
youth into dumbness. This w'as looked for at 
your hand, and this was balked ; the double gilt 
of this opportunity you let time wash off, and 
you are now sailed into the north of my lady's 
opinion ; where you will hang like an icicle on a 
Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by 
some laudable attempt either of valor or policy. 

Sir Andrew. An 't be any way, it must be 
with valor, for policy I hate: I had as lief be 
a Brownist as a politician. 30 

Sir Toby. Why, then, build me thy fortunes 
upon the basis of -valor. Challenge me the 
count's youth to light with him ; hurt him in 
eleven places : my niece shall take note of it ; 
and assure thyself there is no love-broker in the 
world can more prevail in man's commendation 
with woman than report of valor. 

Fabian, There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. 

Sir Andrew. Will either of you bear me a chal- 
lenge to him ? 

Sir Toby. Go, write it in a martial hand; be 40 



8o TWELFTH NIGHT. [act hi. 

curst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it 
be eloquent and full of invention : taunt him 
with the license of ink: if thou thou'st him 
some thrice, it shall not be amiss ; and as many 
lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although 
the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware 
in England, set 'em down : go, about it. Let 
there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou 
write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it. 

Sir Andrew. Where shall I find you ? 
50 Sir , Toby. We '11 call thee at the cubiculo : go. 

l^Exit Sir Andrew. 

Fabian. This is a dear manakin to you. Sir 
Toby. 

Sir Toby. I have been dear to him, lad, some 
two thousand strong, or so. 

Fabia7i. We shall have a rare letter from him : 
but you '11 not deliver 't } 

Sir Toby. Never trust me, then ; and by all 
means stir on the youth to an answer. I think 
oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. 
For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so 
much blood in his liver as wmII clog the foot of a 
60 flea, I '11 eat the rest of the anatomy. 

Fabia7t. And his opposite, the youth, bears in 
his visage no great presage of cruelty. 

Enter Maria. 

Sir Toby. Look, where the youngest wren of 
nine comes. 

Maria. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh 
yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yond gult 
Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegade ; for 



sc. III.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 

there is no Christian that means to be saved by- 
believing rightly can ever believe such impossi- 
ble passages of grossness. He 's in yellow stock- 
ings. 

Sir Toby. And cross-gartered ? "jo 

Maria. Most villanously ; like a pedant that 
keeps a school i' the church. I have dogged 
him like his murderer. He does obey every 
point of the letter that I dropped to betray 
him : he does smile his face into more lines than 
is in the new map with the augmentation of the 
Indies; you have not seen such a thing as 't is. 
I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I 
know my lady will strike him : if she do, he 'II 
smile and take 't for a great favor. 

Sir Toby. Come, bring us, bring us where he 
is. [ExeiiJit. 80 

Scene HI. A street. 
Enter Sebastian and Antonio. 

Seb. I would not by my will have troubled 
you ; 
But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, 
I will no further chide you. 

Antonio. I could not stay behind you : my 
desire, 
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth ; 
And not all love to see you, though so much 
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage. 
But jealousy what might befall your travel, 
Being skilless in these parts ; which to a stranger, 10 
Unguided and unfriended, often prove 



82 TWELFTH NIGHT, [act hi 

Rough and unhospitable: my willing love, 
The rather by these arguments of fear, 
Set forth in your pursuit. 

Seb. . My kind Antonio, 

I can no other answer make but thanks 
And thanks and ever thanks; often good turns 
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay : 
But, were my worth as is my conscience firm, 
You should find better dealing. What's to do? 
Shall we go see the reliques of this town? 

Antonio. To-morrow, sir : best first go see your 
20 lodging. 

Seb. I am not weary, and 't is long to night : 
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes 
With the memorials and the things of fame 
That do renown this city. 

Afitomo. Would you 'd pardon me ; 

I do not without danger walk these streets : 
Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys 
I did some service; of such note indeed 
That were I ta'en here it would scarce be an- 
swer'd. 

Seb. Belike you slew great number of his 
people. 

Antonio. Th' offence is not of such a bloody 
30 nature ; 

Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel 
Might well have given us bloody argument. 
It might have since been answer'd in repaying 
What we took from them ; which, for traffic's 

sake, 
Most of our city did : only myself stood out; 
For which, if I be lapsed in this place, 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 83 

I shall pay dear. 

Seb. Do not then walk too open. 

Antonio. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here 's 
my purse. 
In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, 
Is best to lodge ; I will bespeak our diet, 40 

Whiles you beguile the time and feed your 

knowledge 
With viewing of the town : there shall you have 
me. 
Seb. Why I your purse ? 

Antonio. Haply your eye shall light upon some 
toy 
You have desire to purchase; and your store, 
I think, is not for idle markets, sir. 

Seb. I '11 be your purse-bearer and leave you 
For an hour. 
Antonio. To th' Elephant. 
Seb. I do remember. {Exeunt, 50 

Scene IV. Olivia's garden. 

Enter Olivia and Maria. 

Olivia. I have sent after him : he says he 'II 
come; 
How shall I feast him } what bestow of him } 
For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or bor- 
row 'd. 
I speak too loud. 

Where is Malvolio ? he is sad and civil. 
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes : 
Where is Malvolio.^ 



84 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act hi. 

Maria. He 's coming, madam ; but in very- 
strange manner. He is, sure, possessed, madam. 
Jo Olivia. Why, what 's the matter ? does he rave ? 

Mai'ia, No, madam, he does nothing but smile : 
your ladyship were best to have some guard 
about you if he come; for, sure, the man is 
tainted in 's wits. 

Olivia. Go, call him hither. [£".t-// Maria.] I 
am as mad as he, 
If sad and merry madness equal be. 

Re-ejiter Maria with Malvolio. 

How now, Malvolio ! 

Mai. Sweet lady, ho, ho. 

Olivia. Smilest thou .'' 
I sent for thee upon a sad occasion, 
20 Mai. Sad, lady ! I could be sad : this does 
make some obstruction in the blood, this cross- 
gartering; but what of that.? If it please the eye 
of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is, 
" Please one, and please all." 

Olivia. Why, how dost thou, man ? what is the 
matter with thee? 

Mai. Not black in my mind, though yellow in 
my legs. It did come to his hands, and com. 
mands shall be executed: I think we do kno\i 
the sweet Roman hand. 

Olivia. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio ? 

Mai. To bed ! ay, sweetheart, and I '11 com( 
30 to thee. 

Olivia. God comfort thee ! Why dost tho\ 
smile so and kiss thy hand so oft } 

Mai'-ia. How do vou, Malvolio ? 



sc. IV,] TWELFTH NIGHT, 85 

Mai. At your request! yes, nightingales an- 
swer daws. 

Maria, Why appear you with this' ridiculous 
boldness before my lady ? 

Mai, " Be not afraid of greatness : " 't was well 
writ. 

Olivia. What meanest thou by that. Mai vol io? 

Mai. " Some are born great," — 

Olivia. Ha ! 40 

Mai. — " some achieve greatness," — 

Olivia. What sayest thou } 

Mai. — " and some have greatness thrust upon 
them." 

Olivia. Heaven restore thee ! 

Mai. " Remember who commended thy yel- 
low stockings," — 

Olivia. Thy yellow stockings ! 

Alal. — " and wished to see thee cross-gar- 
ter'd." 

Olivia. Cross-garter'd ! 

Mai. " Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest 
to be so ; " — 50 

Olivia. Am I made .-^ 

Mai. — " if not, let me see thee a servant 
still." 

Olivia. Why, this is very midsummer madness. 
Enter Servant. 

Se7'v. Madam, the young gentleman of the 
Count Orsino's is returned : I could hardly 
entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's 
pleasure. 

Olivia. I '11 come to him. \Exit Servant.] 
Good Maria, let this fellow be looked, to. 



86 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act hi. 

Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my peo- 
ple have a. special care of him : I would not have 
him miscarry for the half of my dowry. 

[Exeunt OLfviA and Maria. 
Mai. Oho ! do you come near me now ? no 

60 worse man than Sir Toby to look to me ! This 
concurs directly with the letter : she sends him 
on purpose that I may appear stubborn to him'; 
for she incites me to that in the letter. " Cast 
thy humble slough," says she ; " be opposite 
with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy 
tongue tang with arguments of state; put thy- 
self into the trick of singularity;" and conse- 
quently sets down the manner hov/: as, a sad 
face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the 
habit of some sir of note, and so forth, I have 

7ohmed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make 
me thankful ! And when she went away now, 
"Let this fellow be looked to:" "fellow!" not 
Malvolio, nor after my degree, but "fellow." 
Why, everything adheres together that no dram 
of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, 
no incredulous or unsafe circumstance — What 
can be said .'' Nothing that can be can come 
between me and the full prospect of my hopes. 
Well, Jove, not L is the doer of this, and he is 

Soto be thanked. 

Re-enter Maria with Sir Toby ajid Fabian. 

Sir Toby. Which way is he, in the name of sanc- 
tity.^ If all the devils of hell be drawn in little, 
and Legion himself possessed him, yet I '11 speak 
to him. 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 87 

Fabian. Here he is, here he is. How is 't with 
you, sir? how is 't with you, man ? 

Mai. Go off; I discard you : let me enjoy my 
private : go off. 

Maria. Lo, how hollow the fiend spealcs within 
him! did not I tell you.? Sir Toby, my lady 
prays you to have a care of him. 90 

Mai. Aha ! does she so ? 

Sir Toby. Go to, ,^0 to ; peace, peace ; we must 
deal gently with him : let me alone. How do 
you, Malvolio } how is 't v/ith you } What, man ! 
defy the devil : consider, he's an enemy to man- 
kind. 

Mai. Do you know what you say ? 

Maria. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, 
how he takes it at heart ! Pray God, he be not 
bewitched ! My lady would not lose him for 
more than I '11 say. 

Mai. How now, mistress! 100 

Maria. O Lord ! 

Sir Toby. Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not 
the way : do you not see you move him } let me 
alone with him. 

Fabian. No way but gentleness ; gently, gently: 
the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. 

Sir Toby. Why, how now, my bawcock ! how 
dost thou, chuck ? 

Mai. Sir! 

Sir Toby. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, 
man! 't is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit no 
with Satan : hang him, foul collier ! 

Maria. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir 
Toby, get him to pray. 



88 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act hi. 

Alal. My prayers, minx ! 

Maria. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of 
godliness. 

Mai. Go, hang yourselves all ! you are idle, 
shallow things : I am not of your element : you 
shall know more hereafter. [Exit. 

Sir Toby. Is 't possible ? 
1 20 Fabian. If this were played upon a stage now, 
I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. 

Sir Toby. His very genius hath taken the in- 
fection of the device, man. 

Maria. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device 
take air and taint. 

Fabian. Why, we shall make him mad indeed. 

Maria. The house will be the quieter. 

Sir Toby. Come, we '11 have him in a dark room 
and bound. My niece is already in the belief 
that he 's mad : we may carry it thus, for our 
130 pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, 
tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on 
him : at which time we will bring the device to 
the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. 
But see, but see ! 

Enter SiR Andrew. 

Fabian. More matter for a Mav morning. 

Sir Andrezu. Here's the challenge, read it: I 
warrant there 's vinegar and pepper in 't. 

Fabian. Is 't so saucy } 

Sir Andrew. Ay, is 't, I warrant him: do but 
read. 
140 Sir Toby. Give me. \Reads\ "Youth, whatso- 
ever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow." 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 89 

Fabia7i. Good, and valiant. 

Si7' Toby, \Reads\ " Wonder not, nor admire 
not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will 
siiovv thee no reason for 't. 

Fabian. A good noie ; that keeps 5'ou from the 
blow of the law. 

Sir Toby. \^Reads\ " Thou comest to the lady 
Olivia, and in m\^ sight she uses thee kindly : 
but thou liest in thy tiiroat; that is not the mat- 
ter I challenge thee for." ' 150 

Fabian. Very brief, and to exceeding good 
sense — less. 

Sir Toby. \Reads\ " I will waylay thee going 
home; where, if it be thy chance to kill me," 

Fabian. Good. 

Sir Toby, ^Reads] — " thou killest me like a 
rogue and a villain." 

Fabian. Still 3^ou keep o' the windy side of the 
law : good. 

Sir Toby. \Reads\ " Fare thee well ; and God 
have mercy upon one of our souls! He may 160 
have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, 
and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest 
him, and thy sworn enemy, Andrew Ague- 
cheek." If this letter move him not, his legs 
cannot : I '11 give it him. 

Maria. You may have very fit occasion for 't : 
he is now in some commerce with my lady, and 
will by and by depart. 

Sir Toby, Go, Sir Andrew ; scout me for him at 
the corner of the orchard like a bum-baily : so 
soon as ever thou seest him, draw ; and, as thc^u 
drawest, swear horrible ; for it comes to pass oft i'jo 



go TWELFTH NIGHT, [act iil 

that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent 
sharply twanged off, gives manhood more appro- 
bation than ever proof itself would have earned 
him. Away ! 

Sir Andrew. Nay, let me alone for swearing. 

Sir Toby. Now will not I deliver his letter: for 
the behavior of the young gentleman gives him 
out to be of good capacity and breeding; his 
employment between his lord and my niece con- 
i8o firms no less: therefore this letter, being so ex- 
cellently ignorant, will breed .no terror in the 
youth : he will find it comes from a clodpole. 
But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of 
mouth ; set upon Aguecheek a notable report of 
valor; and drive the gentleman, as I know his 
youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous 
opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosit3\ 
This will so fright them both that they will kill 
one another by the look, like cockatrices. 

Re-enter Olivia with Viola. 

Fabian. Here he comes with your niece : give 
them way till he take leave, and presently after 
him 
190 Sir Toby. I will meditate the while upon some 
horrid message for a challenge. 

[Exeinit Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria. ■ 
Olivia. I 've said too much unto a heart of 
stone. 
And laid mine honor too unchary out : 
There 's something in me that reproves my fault ; 
But such a headstrong, potent fault it is 



k 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT, 91 

That it but mocks reproof. 

Viola. With the same 'havior that youi passion 
bears 
Goes on my master's grief. 

Olivia. Here, wear this jewel for me, 't is my 
picture ; 
Refuse' it not; it hath no tongue to vex you ; 200 
And I beseech you come again to-morrow. 
What shall you ask of me that I '11 deny. 
That honor sav'd may upon asking give.'' 

Viola. Nothing but this : your true love for my 

master. 
Olivia. How with mine honor may I give him 
that 
Which I have given to you ? 

Viola. I will acquit you. 

Olivia. Well, come again to-morrow : fare thee 
well : 
A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. 

[Exit. 

Re-e7iter Sir Toby and Fabian. 

Sir Toby. Gentleman, God save thee. 210 

Viola. And you, sir. 

Sir Toby. That defense thou hast, betake thee 
to 't : of what nature the wrongs are thou hast 
done him, I know not ; but thy intercepter, full 
of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at 
the orchard-end : dismount thy tuck, be yare in 
th)'^ preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skill- 
ful, and deadly. 

Viola. You mistake, sir ; I am sure no man hath 
any quarrel to me : my remembrance is very free 



Q2 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act iiL 

and clear from any image of offense done to any 

220 man. 

Sir Toby. You '11 find it otherwise, I assure 
you: therefore, if you hold your life at any price, 
betake you to j'^our guard ; for your opposite hath 
ill him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath can 
furnisli man withal. 

Viola. I pray you, sir, what is he ? 
Sir Toby. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched 
rapier and on carpet consideration ; but he is a 
devil in private brawl : souls and bodies hath 
ne divorced three; and his incensement at this 
moment is so implacable that satisfaction can be 

230 none but by pangs of death and sepulcher. Hob, 
nob, is his word ; give 't or take 't. 

Viola. I will return again into the house and de- 
sire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. 
I have heard of some kind of men that put quar- 
rels purposely on others to taste their valor: be 
like this is a man of that quirk. 

Sir Toby. Sir, no ; his indignation derives itself 
out of a very competent injury: therefore, get 
you on and give him his desire. Back you shall 
not to the house, unless you undertake that with 

240 me which with as much safety you might answer 
him : therefore, on, or strip your sword stark 
naked ; for meddle you nmst, that 's certain, or 
forsw^ear to wear iron about you. 

Viola. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech 
you, do me this courteous office, as to know of 
the knight what my offense to him is : it is 
something of my negligence, nothing of my. pur- 
pose. 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT 93 

Sir Toby. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay 
you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit. 

Viola. Pray you, sir, do you know of this mat- 
ter ? ' 250 

Fabia7i. 1 know the knight is incensed against 
you, even to a mortal arbitrement ; but nothing 
of the circumstance more. 

Viola. I beseech you, what manner of man is 
he.> 

Fabian. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to 
read him by his form, as you are like to find him 
in the proof of his valor. He is indeed, sir, the 
most skillful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you 
could possibly have found in any part of 1113'^ria. 
Will you walk towards him.'' I will make your 
peace with him if I can. 

Viola. I shall be much bound to you for \ : I 260 
am one that had rather go with sir priest than 
sir knight : I care not who knows so much of 
my mettle. ^Exeunt. 

Re-enter -SiR ToBY with SiR ANDREW. 

Sir Toby. Why. t-au, he 's a very devil ; I have 
not seen ?uch a nrago. I had a pass with him, 
rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the 
stuck in with such a mortal motion that it is in- 
evitable ; and, on the answer, he pays you as 
surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. 
They say he has been fencer to the Sophy. 

Sir Andrew. Pox on 't, I '11 not meddle with 
him. 2~o 

Sir Toby. Ay, but he will not now be pacified : 
Fabian can scarce hold him yonder. 



^4 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act iil 

Sir Andreiv. Plague on 't, an I thought he had 
been vaHant and so cunning in fence, I 'd 1: ave 
seen him damned ere I 'd have challenged him. 
Let him let the matter slip, and I '11 give him m}^ 
horse, gray Capilet. 

Si}' Toby I "11 make the motion : stand here, 
make a good show on 't : this shall end without 
the perdition of souls. \Aside\ Marry, I "11 ride 
jO your horse as well as I ride you. 

Re-^nter Fabian and ViOLA. 

\To Fabian] I have his horse to take up the 
quan el ; I have persuaded him the youth 's a 
devil 

Fabia7i. He is as horribly conceited of him ; and 
pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his 
heelc. 

Sir Toby. [To Viola] There 's no remedy, sir ; 
he will fight with you for 's oath's sake: marry, 
he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and 
he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of : 
therefore draw for the supportance of his vow: 
he protests he will not hurt you. 

Viola. \Aside\ Pray God defend me! A little 
:90 thing would make me tell them how much I 
lack of a man. 

Fabian. Give ground, if you see hini furious. 

Sir Toby. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no rem- 
edy ; the gentleman will, for his honor's sake, have 
one bout with you ; he cannot by the duello 
avoid it : but he has promised me, as he is a 
gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. 
Come on ; to 't. 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 95 

Sir Andrew. Pray God, he keep his oath ! 
Viola. I do assure you, 't is against my wili. 

[ They draw ^ 

Enter Antonio. 

Anto7iio. Put up your sword. If this young 

gentleman 300 

Have done offense, I take the fault on me: 
If you offend him, I for him defy you. 

Sir Toby. You, sir ! why, what are you ? 

Antonio. One, sir, that for his love dares yet 
do more 
Than you have heard him brag to you he will. 

Sir Tody. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am 
for you. [ They draw 

Enter Officers. 

Fabia7i. O good Sir Toby, hold ! here come 
the officers. 

Sir Toby. [ To Antonio?^ 1 '11 be with you anon. 

Viola. Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you 
please. 

Sir Afidrew. Marry, will I, sir: and, for that I 310 
promised you, I '11 be as good as my word: he 
will bear you easily and reins well. 

First Off. This is the man ; do thy office. 

Second Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit 
of Count Orsino. 

Antonio. You do mistake me, sir. 

First Off. No, sir, no jot ; I know your favor 
well, -:: . 

Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. 
Take him away : he knows I know him well. 



96 TV/ELFTH NIGHT. [act hi. 

Antonio. I must obey. \To Viola.[ This 
220 comes with seeking you : 

But there 's no remedy; I shall answer it. 

What will you do, now my necessity 

Makes me to ask you for my purse ? It grieves 

me 
Much more for what I cannot do for you 
Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd; 
But be of comfort. 

Second Off. Come, sir, away. 

Antojtzo. I must entreat of you some of that 

money. 
Viola. What money, sir? 
330 For the fair kindness you have show'd me here, 
And, part, being prompted by your present trou- 
ble, 
Out of my lean and low ability 
I '11 lend you something : my having is not 

much ; 
I '11 make division of my present with you : 
Hold, there 's half my coffer. 
Antotiio. Will you deny me 

now ? 
Is 't possible that my deserts to you 
Can lack persuasion ? Do not tempt my misery, 
Lest that it make me so unsound a man 
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses 
That I have done for you. 
340 Viola. I know of none ; 

Nor know I you by voice or any feature : 
I hate ingratitude more in a man 
Than lying vainness, babbling drunkenness. 
Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption 



sc. IV.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 97 

Inhabits our frail blood. 
Antonio. O heavens themselves \ 

Secojid Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go. 
Aiiionio. Let me speak a little. This youth that 
you see here 
I sriatch'd one half out of the jaws of death, 
Reliev'd him with such sanctity of love ; 
And to his image, which methought did promise 350 
Most venerable worth, did I devotion. 
First Off. What 's that to us } The time goes 

by : away ! 
Antotiio. But oh, how vile an idol proves this 
god! 
Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. 
In nature there 's no blemish but the mind ; 
None can be call'd deform 'd but the unkind; 
Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil 
Are empty trunks o'erflourish'd by the devil. 
First Off. The man grows mad : away with 

him ! Come, come, sir. 360 

Anto7tio. Lead me on. {Exit with Officers. 

Viola. Methinks his words do from such pas- 
sion fly 
That he believes himself : so do not I. 
Prove true, imagination, oh, prove true 
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you ! 

Sir Toby. Come hither, knight ; come hither. 
Fabian ; we '11 whisper o'er a couplet or two of 
most sage saws, 

Viola. He nam 'd Sebastian : I my brother know 
Yet living in my glass; even such and so 
In favor was my brother, and he went 370 

Still in this fashion, color, ornament. 



98 TWELFTH NIGHT, [act iv. 

For him I imitate: oh, if it prove, 
Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love. 

\^Exit. 

Sir Toby. A very dishonest, paltry boy, and 
more a coward than a hare : his dishonesty 
appears in leaving his friend here in necessity 
and denying him ; and, for his cowardship, ask 
Fabian, 

Fabian. A coward, a most devout coward, re- 
ligious in it. \ y\J': 'o-\;vV„<-4' 

Sir Andrew. 'Slid, I 'Uaherhim again and beat 
him. 
380 Sir Toby. Do; cuff him soundly, but never 
draw thy sword. \Exit. 

Sir Andrew. An I do not, — 

Fabian. Come, let 's see the event. 

Sir Toby. I dare lay any money 't will be noth- 
ing yet. {Exeunt. 

ACT IV. 
Scene I. The street before Olivia's house. 

Enter Sebastian and Clown. 

Clow7i. Will you make me believe that I am not 
sent fo you } 

Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow : Let 
me be clear of thee. 

Clown. Well held out, i' faith ! No, I do not 
know you ; nor I am not sent to you by my lady 
to bid you come speak with her ; nor your name 
is not Master Cesario ; nor this is not my nose 
neither. Nothing that is so is so. 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 99 

Seb. I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else : 10 
Thou know'st not me. 

Clowti. Vent my folly! he has heard that word 
of some great man and now applies it to a fool. 
Vent my folly ! I am afraid this great lubber, 
the world, will prove a cockney. — I prithee now, 
ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall 
vent to my lady ; shall I vent to her that thou 
art coming ? 

Seb. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me : 
There 's money for thee : if you tarry longer, 
I shall give worse payment. 20 

Clown. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. 
These wise men that give fools money get them- 
selves a good report — after fourteen years' pur- 
chase. 

Enter SiR ANDREW, Sir Toby, and Fabian. 

Sir Afidrew. Now, sir, have I met you again ? 
there 's for you. [Striking Sebastian. 

Seb. Why, there 's for thee and there and 
there. Are all the people mad ? 

[Beating SiR ANDREW. 

Sir Toby. Hold, sir, or I '11 throw your dagger 
o'er the house. 

Clown. This will I tell my lady straight : I 30 
would not be in some of your coats for two 
pence. [Exit. 

Sir Toby. Come on, sir; hold. 

Sir Andrew. Nay, let him alone: I '11 go an- 
other way to work with him : I 'II have an action, 
of battery against him, if there be any law in II- 



loo TWELFTH NIGHT. [act iv. 

lyria: though I struck him first, yet it 's no mat- 
ter for that. 

Seb. Let go thy hand. 

Sir Toby. Come, sir, I will not let you go. 
Come, my young soldier, put up your iron : you 
40 are well fleshed ; come on. 

Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst 
thou now .? If thou dar'st tempt me further, 
draw thy sword. 

Sir Toby. What, what } Nay, then I must 
have an ounce or two of this malapert blood 
from you. 

Eiiter Olivia. 

Olivia. Hold, Toby : on thy life I charge thee, 
hold : 

Sir Toby. Madam I 

Olivia. Will it be ever thus ? Ungracious 
wretch, 
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves. 
Where manners ne'er were preached ! out of my 
sight 
50 Re not offended, dear Cesario. 
Rudesby, be gone! 
^Exeunt Sir Toby. Sir Andrew, and Fabian. 

I prithee, gentle friend, 
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway 
In this uncivil and unjust extent 
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house, 
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks 
This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby 
Mayst smile at this : thou shalt not choose but 
s:o : 



sc. II.] TWELFTH NIGHT. loi 

Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me, 
He started one poor heart of mine in thee. 

Seb. What relish is in this } how runs the 
stream ? 60 

Or I am mad or else this is a dream : 
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep ; 
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep ! 

Olivia. Nay, come, I prithee ; would thou 'dst 
be ruled by me ! 

Seb. Madam, I will. 

Olivia. Oh, say so, and so be ! [jExeunt, 

Scene IL A room i7i Olivia's house. 
Better Maria and Clown. 

Maria. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and 
this beard ; make him believe thou art Sir Topas 
the curate : do it quickly ; I '11 call Sir Toby the 
whilst. [Exit. 

Clown. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissem.ble 
myself in 't ; and I would I were the first that 
ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall 
enough to become the function well, nor lean 
enough to be thought a good student ; but to 
be said an honest man and a good housekeeper 
goes as fairly as to say a careful man and a great 
scholar. The competitors enter. 10 

Enter SiR Toby and Maria. 

Sir Toby. Jove bless thee. Master Parson. 

Clown. Bo7ios dies. Sir Toby : for, as the old 
hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, 
very wittily said to a niece of King Gorbodoc, 



102 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act iv. 

"That that is, is;" so I, being Master Parson, 
am Master Parson; for what is "that" but 
" that," and " is " but " is " ? 

Sir Toby. To him, Sir Topas. 

Clown. What ho, I say! peace in this prison ! 

Sir Toby. The knave counterfeits well; a good 
knave. 
20 Mai, [ Wilkin] Who calls there ? 

Clowit. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to 
visit Malvolio, the lunatic. 

Mai. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, 
go to my lady. 

Clown. Out, hyperbolical fiend \ how vexest 
thou, this man ! talkest thou nothing but of 
ladies ? 

Sir Toby. Well said. Master Parson. 

Mai. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged : 
good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad : they 
have laid me here in hideous darkness. 
30 Clown. Fie, thou dishonest Satan ! I call thee 
by the most modest terms ; for I am one of those 
gentle ones that will use the devil himself with 
courtesy : sayest thou that house is dark ? 

MaL As hell, Sir Topas. 

Clown. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent 
as barricadoes, and the clear-stories toward the 
south north are as lustrous as ebony ; and yet 
complainest thou of obstruction ? ' 

Mai. I am not mad. Sir Topas : I say to you 
40 this house is dark. 

Clown. Madman, thou errest : I say there is no 
darkness but ignorance ; ia which thou art more 
puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog. 



\ sc. II.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 103 

Mai. I say this house is as dark as ignorance, 
thougfh ignorance were as dark as hell ; and I 
say there was never man thus abused. I am no 
more mad than you are : make the trial of it in 
any constant question. 

Clown. What is the opinion of Pythagoras 
concerning wild fowl ? 

Mai. That the soul of our grandam might j 
haply inhabit a bird. 

Clown. What thinkest thou of his opinion ? 

Mai. I think nobly of the soul, and no way 
approve his opinion. 

Clow7i. Fare thee well. Remain thou still in 
darkness : thou shalt hold the opinion of Py- 
thagoras ere I will allow of thy wits, and fear tO' 
kill a woodcock lest thou dispossess the soul of 
thy grandam. Fare thee well. 

Mai. Sir Topas, Sir Topas ! 

Sir Toby. My most exquisite Sir Topas \ 60 

Clown. Nay, I am for all waters. 

Maria. Thou mightst have done this without 
thy beard and gown : he sees thee not. 

Sir Toby. To him in thine own voice, and 
bfing me word how thou findest him : I would 
we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be 
conveniently delivered, I would he were ; for I 
am now so far in offence with my niece that I 
cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the 
upshot, Come by and by to my chamber. 

[Exeunt SiR Toby and Maria. 

Clown, [Singing'] " Hey, Robin, jolly Robin, 70 
Tell me how thy lady does." 

Mai, Fool ! 



104 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act iv. 

Clown. " My lady is unkind, perdy." 

Mai Fool! 

Clow7i. ' ' Alas, why is she so ? " 

Mai. Fool, I say ! 

Clown. " She loves another " — Who calls, ha? 

Mai. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well 
at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, 
and paper : as I am a gentleman, I will live to be 
80 thankful to thee for 't. 

Clown. Master Malvolio ? 

Mai. Ay, good fool. 

Clown. Alas, sir, how fell you beside your five 
wits ? 

Mai. FooL there was never man so notori- 
ously abused : I am as well in my wits, fool, as 
thou art. 

Clown. But as well ? then you are mad indeed, 
if you be no better in your wits than a fool. 

Mai. They have here propertied me ; keep 
me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and 
90 do all they can to face me out of my wits. 

Clown. Advise you what you say; the min- 
ister is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the 
heavens restore ! endeavor thyself to sleep, a«d 
leave thy vain bibble babble. 

Mai. Sir Topas ! 

Clowft. Maintain no words with him, good 
fellow. Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God be wi' 
you, good Sir Topas. Marry, amen. I will, sir, 
I will. 

Mai. Fool, fool, fool, I say! 
foo Clown. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, 
sir ? I am shent for speaking to you. 



sc. II.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 105 

Mai. Good fool, help me to some light and 
some paper : I tell thee I am as well in my wits 
as any man in Illyria. 

Clown. Well-a-da}^ that you were, sir ! 
Mai. By this hand, I am. Good fool, some 
ink, paper, and light; and convey what I will 
set down to my lady : it shall advantage thee 
more than ever the bearing of letter did. 

Clown. I will help you to 't. But tell me true, 
are you not mad indeed.'* or do you but coun- 110 
terfeit } 

Mai. Believe me, I am not ; I tell thee true. 
Clown. Nay, I '11 ne'er believe a madman till I 
see his brains. I will fetch you light and paper 
and ink. 

Mai. Fool, I 'U requite it in the highest de- 
gree ; I prithee, be gone. 

Clow7i. \Singing\ I am gone, sir. 
And anon, sir, 
I '11 be with vou again. 

In a trice, 120 

Like to the old Vice, 
Your need to sustain ; 

Who, with dagger of lath, 
In his rage and his wrath, 

Cries, aha ! to the devil : 
Like a mad lad, 
Pare thy nails, dad ; 

Adieu, good man devil. \Exit. 



io6 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act iv. 

Scene III. O1.IYI a.' s garden. 

Enter Sebastian. 

Seb, This is the air ; that is the glorious sun ; 
This pearl she gave me, I do feel 't and see 't ; 
And, though 't is wonder that enwraps me thus. 
Yet 't is not madness. Where 's Antonio, then } 
I could not find him at the Elephant : 
Yet there he was ; and there I found this credit. 
That he did range the town to seek me out. 
His counsel now might do me golden service ; 
For, though my soul disputes well with my sense, 

10 That this may be some error, but no madness. 
Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune 
So far exceed all instance, all discourse, 
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes, 
And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me 
To any other trust but that I'm mad 
Or else the lady 's mad ; yet, if 't were so, 
She could not sway her house, command her 

followers. 
Take and give back affairs and their dispatch 
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearin-^ 

20 As I perceive she does : there 's something in 't 
That is deceivable. But here the lady comes. 

Enter Olivia and Priest. 

Olivia. Blame not this haste of mine. If you 
mean well. 
Now go with me and with this holy man 
Into the chantry by : there, before him, 
And underneath that consecrated roof. 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 107 

Plight me the full assurance of your faith 
That my most jealous and too doubtful soul 
May live at peace. He shall conceal it 
Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, 
What time we will our celebration keep 30 

According to my birth. What do you say ? 

Seb. I '11 follow this good man, and go with you; 
And, having sworn truth, ever will be true. 

Olivia. Then lead the way, good father ; and 
heavens so shine 
That they may fairly note this act of mine ! 

\Exeimt. 

ACT V. 

Scene I. The street before Olivia's house. 

Enter Clown and Fabian. 

Fabian. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see 
his letter. 

Clown. Good Master Fabian, grant me another 
request. 

Fabian. Anything. 

Clown. Do not desire to see this letter. 

Fabia?i. This is to give a dog, and in recom- 
pense desire my dog again. 

E7tter Duke, Viola, Curio, a7td Lords. 

Duke. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends } 
Clown. Ay, sir ; we are some of her trappings. 
Duke. I know thee well : how dost thou, my 
good fellow } 



loS TWELFTH NIGHT. [act iv. 

lo Clown. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and 
the worse for my friends. 

Duke. Just tlie contrary; the better for thy 
friends. 

Clown. No, sir, the worse. 

Duke. How can that be } 

Clown. Marry, sir, they praise me and make 
an ass of me ; now my foes tell me plainly I am 
an ass : so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the 
knowledge of myself, and by my friends I am 
abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if 
your four negatives make your two affirmatives, 
20 why then the worse for my friends and the 
better for my foes. 

Duke. Why, this is excellent. 

Clown. By my troth, sir. no ; though it please 
you to be one of my friends. 

Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me : 
there 's gold. 

Clown. But that it would be double-dealing, 
sir, I would you could make it another. 

Duke. Oh, you give me ill counsel. 

Clown. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for 
30 this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. 

Diike. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be 
a double-dealer: there 's another. 

Clown. Prz'mo, secundo, tertio is a good play : 
and the old saying is, the third pays for all : the 
triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the 
bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; 
one, two, three. 

Duke. You can fool no more money out of me 
at this throw : if you will let your lady know I 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 109 

am here to speak with her, and bring her along 
with you, it may awake my bounty further. 40 

CloTU7i. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till 
I come again. I go, sir ; but I would not have 
you to think that my desire of having is the sin 
of covetousness : but, as you say, sir, let your 
bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Exit. 

Viola. Here comes the man, sir, that did res- 
cue me. 

Enter Antonio and Officers. 

Duke. That face of his I do remember well 
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd 
As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war: 
A bawbling vessel was he captain of, 50 

For shallow draught and bulk unprizable : 
With which such scathful grapple did he make 
With the most noble bottom of our fleet 
That very envy and the tongue of loss 
Cried fame and honor on him. What 's the 

matter? 
First Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio 
That took the Phoenix and her fraught from 

Candy ; 
And this is he that did the Tiger board. 
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg : 
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and 

state, 60 

In private brabble did we apprehend him. 

Viola. He did me kindness, sir, drew on my 

side ; 
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me ; 
I know not what 't was but distraction. 



no TWELFTH NIGHT. [act v. 

Duke. Notable pirate ! thou salt-water thief ! 
What foolish boldness brought thee to their 

mercies 
Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, 
Hast made thine enemies ? 

A7it. Orsino, noble sir, 

Be pleas'd that I shake'off these names you give 
me: 
70 Antonio never yet was thief or pirate, 

Though I confess, on base and ground enough, 
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither: 
That most ingrateful boy there by 3^our side, 
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth 
Did I redeem ; a wreck past hope he was : 
His life I gave him and did tliereto add 
My love, without retention or restraint, 
All his in dedication ; for his sake 
Did I expose myself, pure for his love, 
go If^to the danger of this adverse town ; 
Drew to defend him when he was beset: 
Wiiere, being apprehended, his false cunning, 
Not meaning to partake with me in danger, 
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance, 
And grew a twenty years removed thing 
While one could wink ; denied me mine own 

purse, 
Which I had recommended to his use 
Not half an hour before. 

Viola. How can this be ? 

Dtike. When came he to this town ? 
Aiit. To-day, my lord : and, for three months 
^o before. 

No interim, not a minute's vacancy, 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. iir 

Both day and night did we keep company. 

Enter Olivia and Attendants. 

Duke. Here comes the countess : now heaven 
walks on earth. 
But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are mad- 
ness : 
Three months this youth hath tended upon me: 
Biit more of that anon. Take him aside. 
Olivia. What would my lord, but that he may 
not have. 
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable .'' 
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. 

Viola. Madam ! loo 

Duke. Gracious Olivia, — 
Olivia. What do you say, Cesario ? Good my 

lord, — 
Viola. My lord would speak ; my duty hushes 

me. 
Olivia. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, 
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear 
As howling after music. 

Duke. Still so cruel ? 

Olivia. Still so constant, lord. 
Duke. What, to perverseness ? you uncivil lady, 
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars 
My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd 

out no 

That e'er devotion tender'd ! What shall I do.^ 
Olivia. Even what it please my lord, that shall 

become him. 
Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to 
do it, 



112 T WEL FTH NIGH T. [act v. 

Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death, 
Kill what I love ? — a savage jealousy 
That sometime savors nobly. But hear me this: 
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, 
And that I partly know the instrument 
That screws me from m^y true place in your favor, 
I20 Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still ; 

But this your minion, whom I know you love, 
And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, 
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye. 
Where he sits crowned in his master's spite. 
Come, boy, with me ; my thoughts are ripe in mis- 
chief : 
I '11 sacrifice the lamb that I do love. 
To spite a raven's heart within a dove. 

Viola. And I most jocund, apt, and willingly. 
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. 

Olivia. Where goes Cesario.^ 
130 Viola. After him I love 

More than I love these eyes, more than my life, 
More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife. 
If I do feign, you witnesses above 
Punish my life for tainting of my love ! 

Olivia. Av me, detested ! how am I beguil'd ! 

Viola. Who does beguile you .f* who does do 
you wrong? 

Ohvia. Hast thou forgot thyself.'' is it so long ? 
Call forth the holy father. 

Duke. Come, away ! 

Olivia. Whither, my lord .f* Cesario, husband, 
stay. 

Duke. Husband ! 

Olivia. Ay, husband : can he that deny ? 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT 113 

Duke. Her husband, sirrah ! 140 

Viola. No, my lord, not I. 

Olivia. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear 

That makes thee strangle thy propriety : 

Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up; 

Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art 

As great as that thou fear'st. 

Enter Priest. 

Oh, welcome, father ! 
Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, 
Here to unfold, though lately we intended 
To keep in darkness what occasion now 
Reveals before 't is ripe, what thou dost know 150 
Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me. 

Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, 
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, 
Attested by the holy close of lips, 
Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; 
And all the ceremony of this compact 
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony : 
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my 

grave 
I 've travell'd but two hours. 

Dtike. O thou dissembling cub ! what wilt thou 

be 16a 

When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case.'* 
Or wilt not else thy craft so quickly grow 
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow.'* 
Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet 
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. 

Viola. My lord, I do protest — 

Olivia, Oh, do not swear! 



114 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act v. 

Hold little faith, though thou hast too much 
fear. 

Enter SiR Andrew. 

Sir Andrew. For the love of God, a surgeon ! 
Send one presently to Sir Toby. 
170 Olivia. What 's the matter.^ 

Sir Andrew. He has broke my head across, 
and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too : 
for the love of God, your help ! I had rather than 
forty pound I were at home. 

Olivia. Who has done this, Sir Andrew? 

Sir Andrew. The count's gentleman, one 
Cesario : we took him for a coward, but he 's the 
very devil incardinate. 

Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? 
180 Sir Andrew. 'Od's lifelings, here he is! You 
broke my head for nothing ; and that that I did, 
I was set on to do 't by Sir Toby. 

Viola. Why do you speak to me ? I never 
hurt you : 
You drew your sword upon me without cause ; 
But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not. 

Sir Andrew. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, 
you have hurt me : I think you set nothing by a 
bloody coxcomb. 

Enter Sir Toby and Clown. 

Here comes Sir Toby halting ; you shall hear 
more: but, if he had not been in drink, he would 
190 have tickled you othergates than he did. 

Duke. How now, gentleman ! how is 't with 

you ? 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 115 

Sir Toby. That 's all one : has hurt me, and 
there 's the end on 't. Sot, didst see Dick sur- 
geon, sot ? 

Clowji. Oh, he 's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour 
agone ; his e\^es were set at eight i' the morning, 
■Sir Toby. Then he's a rogue, and a passy 
measures pavin : I hate a drunken rogue. 

Olivia. Away with him ! Who hath made this 
havoc with them? 

Sir Andrew. I '11 help you, Sir Toby, because 200 
we '11 be dressed together. 

Sir Toby. Will you help? an ass-head and a 
coxcomb and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull 1 

Olivia. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be 
look'd to. 

\_Exennt Clown, Fabian, Sir Toby, a7td Sir 
Andrew. 

Enter SEBASTIAN. 

Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your 
kinsman ; 
But, had it been the brother of my blood, 
I must have done no less with wit and safety. 
You throw a strange regard upon me, and by thai 
I do perceive it hath offended you: 
Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows 210 

We made each other but so late ago. 

Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two 
persons, 
A natural perspective, that is and is not ! 

Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio! 
How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me 
Since I have lost thee ! 



ii6 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act v. 

Ant. Sebastian are you ? 

Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio ? 

Ant. How have you made division of yourself ? 
An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin 
230 Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? 

Olivia. Most wonderful ! 

Seb. Do I stand there ? I never had a brother ; 
Nor can there be that deity in my nature, 
Of here and every where. I had a sister. 
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd. 
Of charity, what kin are you to me.^ 
What countryman } what name } what parent- 
age } 

Viola, Of Messaline : Sebastian was my father ; 
Such a Sebastian was my brother too, 
230 So went he suited to his watery tomb : 
If spirits can assume both form and suit. 
You come to fright us. 

Seb. A spirit I am indeed ; 

But am in that dimension grossly clad 
Which from the womb I did participate. 
Were you a woman] as the rest goes even, 
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek, 
And say, "Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!" 
Viola. My father had a mole upon his brow. 

Seb. And so had mine. 

Viola. And died that day when Viola from 
240 her birth 

Had number'd thirteen j'-ears. 

Seb. Oh, that record is lively in my soul ! 
He finished indeed his mortal act 
That day that made my sister thirteen years. 

Viola. If nothing lets to make us happy both 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 117 

But this my masculine usurp'd attire, 

Do not embrace me till each circumstance 

Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump 

That 1 am Viola : which to confirm, 

I '11 bring you to a captain in this town, 250 

Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle 
help 

I was preserv'd to serve this noble count. 

All the occurrence of my fortune since 

Hath been between this lady and this lord. 
Seb. [To Olivia.] So comes it, lady, you have 
been mistook : 

But Nature to her bias drew in that. 

You would have been contracted to a maid ; 

Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd. 

You are betroth'd both to a maid and man. 

Diike. Be not amaz'd ; right noble is his blood. 260 

If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, 

I shall have share in this most happy wreck. 

\To Viola.] Boy, thou hast said to me a thou- 
sand times 

Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. 
Viola. And all those sayings will I over- 
swear ; 

And all those swearings keep as true in soul 

As doth that orbed continent the fire 

That severs day from night. 

Duke. Give me thy hand ; 

And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. 
Viola. The captain that did bring me first on 
shore 270 

Hath my maid's garments : he upon some ac- 
tion 



ii8 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act v. 

Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit, 
A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. 

Olivia. He shall enlarge him : fetch Malvolio 
hither: 
And yet, alas, now I remember me, 
They say, poor gentleman, he 's much distract. 

Re-ejtter Clown wil/i a letter and Fabian. 

A most extracting frenzy of mine own 
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his. 
How does he, sirrah } 
280 Clow?i. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at 
the stave's end as well as a man in his case may 
do : has here writ a letter to you ; I should have 
given 't to you to-day morning; but, as a mad- 
man's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not 
much when they are delivered. 

Olivia. Open 't, and read it. 

Clown. Look then to be well edified when 
the fool delivers the madman. 'iReads.\ " By 
the Lord, madam," — 

Olivia. How now ! art thou mad? 

Clown. No, madam, I do but read madness : 
an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, 
290 you must allow Vox. 

Olivia. Prithee, read i' thy right wits. 

Clown. So I do, madonna ; but to read his 
right wits is to read thus: therefore perpend, 
my princess, and give ear, 

Olivia. Read it you, sirrah. [To Fabian. 

Fabian. [Reads.] " By the Lord, madam, you 
wrong me, and the world shall know it : though 
you have put me into darkness and given your 



sc. I.] T WELFTH NIGH 7\ 1 19 

drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the 
benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. 
I have your own letter that induced me to the 
semblance I put on ; with the which I doubt not 300 
but to do myself much right, or you much shame. 
Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a 
little unthought of, and speak out of my iniury. 
The madly-used Malvolio." 

Olivia. Did he write this.'^ 

Clown. Ay, madam. 

Duke. This savors not much of distraction. 

Olivia. See him deliver'd, Fabian ; bring him 
hither. yExit Fabian. 

My lord, so please you, these things further 

thought on, 
To think me as well a sister as a wife, 310 

One day shall crown tli' alliance on 't, so please 

you, 
Here at my house and at my proper cost. 

Duke. Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your 
ofifer. 
\To Viola] Your master quits you; and, for 

your service done him. 
So much against the mettle of your sex. 
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, 
And since you call'd me master for so long, 
Here is my hand : you shall from this time be 
Your master's mistress. 

Olivia. A sister ! you are she. 

Re-enter Fabian with Malvolio. 



jxe-enier rAtsiAJN uuiin ivi ajlvui^iu. 

Duke. Is this the madman ? 

Olivia. Ay, my lord, th 



le same. 320 



320 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act v. 

How now, Malvolio ? 

Mai. Madam, you have done me wrong, 

Notorious wrong. 

Olivia. Have I, Malvolio? no. 

Mai. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that 

letter. 
You must not now deny it is your hand : 
Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase ; 
Or say 't is not your seal, not your invention : 
You can say none of this : well, grant it then. 
And tell me, in the modesty of honor, 
Why you have given me such clear lights of 

favor, 
330 Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you, 
To put on yellow stockings and to frown 
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people ; 
And, acting this in an obedient hope, 
Why have you sufTer'd me to be imprison'd, 
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, 
And made the most notorious geek and gull 
That e'er invention play'd on ? tell me why. 

Olivia, Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, 
Though, I confess, much like the character: 
340 But out of question 't is Maria's hand. 
And now I do bethink me, it was she 
First told me thou wast mad ; then cam'st in 

smiling, 
And in such forms which here were presuppos'd 
Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content : 
This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon 

thee; 
But, when we know the grounds and authors of 

it. 



sc. I.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 121 

Thoushalt be both the plaintiff and the judge 
Of thine own cause. 

Fabian. Good madam, here me speak, 

And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come 
Taint the condition of this present hour, 350 

Which I have wonder'dat. In hope it shall not, 
Most freely I confess myself and Toby 
Set this device against Malvolio here. 
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts 
We had conceiv'd against him. Maria writ 
The letter at Sir Toby's great importance ; 
In recompense whereof he hath married her. 
How with a sportful malice it was foUow'd 
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge ; 
If that the injuries be justly weigh'd 360 

That have on both sides pass'd. 

Olivia. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled 
thee ! 

Clown. Why, "some are born great, some 
achieve greatness, and some have greatness 
thrown upon them." I was one, sir, in this in- 
terlude ; one sir Topas, sir ; but that 's all one. 
"By the Lord, fool, I am not mad." But do 
you remember } — " Madam, why laugh you at 
such a barren rascal.'* an you smile not, lie 's 
gagged:" and thus the whirligig of Time brings 
in his revenges. 

Alal. I '11 be reveng'd on the whole pack of 370 
you. [Exit. 

Olivia. He hath been most notoriously abus'd. 

Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace : 
He hath not told us of the captain yet : 
When that is known and golden time convents. 



122 TWELFTH NIGHT. [act v. 

A solemn combination shall be made 
Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister, 
We will not part from hence. Cesario, come ; 
For so you shall be, while you are a man ; 
But when in other habits you are seen, 
380 Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen. 

[Exeunt all but Clown. 

Clown. \^Sings\ 

When that I was and a little tiny boy, 
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 

A foolish thing was but a toy. 
For the rain it raineth every day. 

But when I came to man's estate, 
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 

'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their 
gate, 
For the ram it rameth every day. 

But when I came, alas ! to wive, 
390 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 

Bv swaggering could I never thrive. 
For the rain it raineth every day. 

But when I came unto my beds. 

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain. 

With toss-pots still had drunken heads. 
For the rain it raineth every day. 

A great while ago the world begun. 
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain. 

But that 's all one, our play is done. 

And we '11 strive to please you every day. 

{Exit. 



NOTES. 

ACT I. 
Scene i. The Duke's palace. 

4. A dying fall, a cadence, a musical term signifying the 
close of a passage. Dying, a diminution of sound, technic- 
ally expressed by diminuendo. 

5. Sweet sound. By the rhetoiical figure, metonymy, the 
effect is here put for the cause. Pope altered sound into south. 
Rowe proposed to read wind; while Douce says the wind, from 
whatever quarter, would produce a sound in breathing on the 
violets, or else the simile is false ; besides, sound is a better 
relative to the antecedent strain. This seems the correct in- 
terpretation. 

12. Validity, value. Kin^ Lear., i. i. 83, " No less in space, 
validity, and pleasure." Pitch, height, or excellence. 

14. Fancy, love. Cp. Midsummer Night''s Dreatn, ii. i. 
164. "In maiden meditation, fancy-free," where yawfry-y^*^ 
means free from love. 

15. Alone, above everything else. High fantastical, su- 
premely fanciful. 

20. Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence. A beau- 
tiful way of expressing her divinity. 

21. Hart. An allusion to the story of Actaeon and Diana. 
Actaeon was changed into a stag, and devoured by his own 
hounds, for looking at Diana when bathing. 

22. Fell, ferocious, fierce. 

26. Element, the sky. Seven years' heat, until the heat 
of seven years has gone by. 

28. Cloistress, a nun, a votaress. 

30. To season, to preserve. Notice the metaphor. 

32. Remembrance. Notice that remembrance is a quadri- 
syllable here. 

123 



124 NOTES. [act I. 

Golden shaft. Cupid had two arrows. The one, tipped 
with gold, caused love; the other, tipped with lead, drove love 
away. 

37. Liver, brain, and heart. In the old medicine the three 
principal parts of the body were liver, heart, and brain, in 
which were begotten respectively the natural, vital, and ani- 
mal (or rational) spirits, by which the soul performed all its 
actions. 

Scene 2. 

2. lUyria. lUyria is a country bordering on the Adriatic, 
and opposite Italy. 

10. Those poor number, Rowe has that. Malone shows 
that M/j would be a better reading, as the sailors who were 
saved enter with the captain. Nutnber is here used as a plu- 
ral noun. 

15. Arion on the dolphin's back. See article " Arion" in 
Classical Dictionary. 

19-21. My own escape makes me hope, and your words 
countenance that hope, that he too may have escaped. The 
like, the escape. 

21. Country. R and liquids in dissyllables are frequently 
pronounced as though an extra vowel were introduced be- 
tween them and the preceding consonant. 

" The like | of him. | Know'st thou | this coiin | t(^)ry ?" 
See Abbott's Shakesperian GraMttnar (described hereafter as 
Sh. Gr.). § 477. 

42. Deliver'd, discovered, shown. 

59. Allow, approve. 

62. Mute, a Turkish slave who had had his tongiie cut out 
in order to make him dumb, and prevent his revealing secrets. 

Scene 3. 

5. Cousin, here used for niece. The word was applied to 
nephews, nieces, grandchildren, etc. 

7. A ludicrous use of the formal law phrase, " Those things 
being excepted which were before excepted." 

lo-ii. I '11 confine myself no finer than I am, I will not put 
on new, tight-fitting clothes. 

12. An, when it means if, is commonly spelt and in the 
Bible, especially where it occurs with a redundant i/. 

19. Tall, strong, stout, brave. Singer points out that Sir 
Andrew Aguecheek was represented on the stage as a very 
small man, and greatly wanting in courage; so that Sir Toby 
is laughing at him, and using the word tall in a double sense. 



sc. III.] NOTES. 125 

21. Ducats. A ducat was a gold coin of Italian origin 
struck in the dominion of a duke, and was worth about gj. 4^. 
There was also a silver one worth from 3^. to 4^. 

25. Viol-de-gamboys, A base viol, or kmd of violoncello, 
which had six strings, and was so called because it was placed 
between the legs. Ital. gamba, a leg. 

30. Allay the gust, diminish his taste. 

34. 'Subtracters. Sir Toby"s expression for detractors. 

Coystrill, a mean, paltry fellow; a menial, servant, or 
groom. 

41. Parish-top. " A large top was formerly kept in evei \ 
village, to be whipped in frosty weather that the peasants 
might be kept warm by the exercise and out of mischief while 
they could not work. " — Steevens. 

Castiliano vulgo. Warburton suggests that Sir Toby said 
■' Castiliano volto," " Put on your grave Castilian counte- 
nance," the Spaniards being celebrated lor their ceremonious 
manners. It was more probably a term from some drinking^ 
song, used by Sir Toby as an expression of delight at seeing 
Sir Andrew. 

48. Accost, draw near and speak to. 

56. Board her, enter a ship by force. Here it is merely an- 
other word for accost. 

60. Part, depart, go. 

66. Marry, by the Virgin Mary, a common oath of the time. 

68. " Thought is free." Maria means that she has a right 
to think what she pleases, and having taken him by the hand, 
implies that she thinks him a fool. 

69. Buttery-bar. The buttery is a store-room where pro- 
visions and liquor are kept. The bar of this is the opening, 
like a window with a ledge, through which the provisions are 
passed . 

72. It 's dry, sir. A dry hand showed that he was no.t a 
lover; forbad he been, his hand would have been moist, ac- 
cording to a common superstition of the time. 

75. A dry jest, a dull or stupid joke. 

77-78. I am only full of them so far as I am full of you ; i.e., 
a handful. 

79. Canary, a light sweet wine made in the Canary Islands. 

84. Eater of beef. Shakespeare seems to allude to this 
idea of beef-eating destroying wit. in Henry V. iii. vii. 160-61. 

91. The tongues. The point of Sir Toby's jest will be lost 
unless we remember that tongues and tongs were pronounced 
alike, as has been pointed out by Mr. Crosby, of Zainsville. 

112. Kickshawses, or kickshaws, formerly written kick- 
skose, meant made dishes, and so odds and ends. French, 
queique chose. 



126 NOTES, [act I. 

115. An old man means a man of experience. 

116. Galliard, a lively French dance. 

117. An obvious joke on caper — dancing, and the caper that 
is eaten with mutton. 

119. Back-trick, a receding motion in dancing. 

123. Mistress Mall's picture. Knight, Hunter, and others 
think that this is an allusion to Mary Frith, the heroine of 
Middleton's play, The Roaring Girl. Mr. Aldis Wright shows 
this to be very improbable. Mistress Mall is merely a type of 
any lady solicitous for the preservation of her charms, even 
when transferred to canv^as. The custom of having curtains 
attached to the frame of pictures was common. 

125. Coranto, a French dance. 

128. Star of a galliard. Sir Toby suggests that Sir Andrew 
was born under a jovial planet, and therefore would be capa- 
ble of good dancing. 

129-30. Indifferent well, fairly, tolerably well. 

130. Stock, stocking. 

134. Sides and heart. Both the knights are wrong, but 
their ignorance is perhaps intentional. Taurus is made to 
govern the neck and the throat. 

Scene 4. 

2. Cesario, the name Viola had assumed, 

24. Say I do speak, supposing I do speak. 

33. Rubious, red, or the color of a ruby. Pipe, voice. 

35. Semblative, having the appearance of. 

A woman's part, thy proper part in a play would be a 
woman's. Women were then personated by boys. It was not 
till tne time of Charles II. that women began to act in public. 

36-37. I know that the position of the stars at the time of 
vour birth was very favorable for this undertaking. 

42. A barfuj strife, a contest full of impediments. 

Scene 5. 

The Clown in this play is a domestic fool in the service of 
Olivia. Most noblemen formerly kept a domestic jester for 
their sport. For instance, Cardinal Wolsey made a present of 
his fool to Henry VIII. 

6. To fear no colors, fear no enemy, whatever colors he may 
fight under. 

9, Lenten answer, lean or dry answer, like a dinner in 
Lent. 

20. And, for turning away, let summer bear it out. The 



sc. v.] NOTES. 127 

Clown could live in some fashion or other, now that summer 
■was coming, even if he were dismissed. 

22. Points, metal hooks fastened to the hose, or breeches, 
and going into the straps, or eyes, fixed to the doublet, and 
thereby keeping the hose, or gaskins, from falling down. 

25. The Clown here hints that Maria is setting her cap for 
Sir Toby, who would be a grand catch for her if he would 
give up drinking. 

33. Quinapalus, name invented by the Clown. 

40. Madonna, a mistress, dame. SoZ^z Madonna, by way 
of pre-eminence for The Blessed Virgin. 

45. Patch'd. There is possibly an allusion to the parti- 
colored dress of the fool. The fool consequently was often 
called Patch. 

47. Syllogism. Here the major premiss is, Anything that's 
mended is but patched. The minor premiss is understood, 
and there are two conclusions, the conclusion of the whole 
matter being that the Lady and the Fool are both patches — he 
being repentant sin, and she virtue that transgresses, as he 
proceeds further to demonstrate. 

48. Cuckold. Hammer suggests counselor, Capell school. 
Hunter says this is intentional nonsense. 

52. Misprision, misunderstanding, nteprise. 

52-53. Cucullus non facit monachum. 'T is not the hood 
that makes the monk. 

53-54. I wear not motley in my brain. Feste means he 
was not such a fool as the lady; for, though he wore a fool's 
dress, he had more than a fool's wisdom. 

57. Dexteriously, another form of dexterously. 

60. My mouse. This was a term of endearment, and in ap- 
plying it to Olivia the clown was stretching his liberty as a 
fool. 

82. Ordinary fool, a common or unlicensed fool, not a per- 
manent domestic set fool like Feste. 

85-86. These set kind of fools. " The two nouns connected 
by ^y seem regarded as a compound noun with plural termina- 
tion."— (6'/4. Gr. §412). Crow, laugh merrily. 

86. Fool's zanies. "' A zany was a fool's fool, or a clown 
that followed a tumbler and vaulter. His representative is to 
be found in the modern circus." (Grant White.) Cp. Ben 
Jonson's Every Man out 0/ his Humour, iv. i. 
" He's like the zany to a tumbler. 
That tries tricks after him. to make men laugh." 

88. Distempered, disordered. 

90. Bird-bolts, short, blunt arrows for killing birds. 

01. Allow'd fool, an acknowledged, or licensed domestic 
fool. 



128 NOTES. [act I. 

94-95. Since thou speakest the truth of fools, may Mercury 
give thee the advantageous gift of lying. Mercury was the 
god of thieves and cheats. 

96. For the omission of the relative, see Sh. Gr., § 244. 

109. The Clown still keeps hinting that Olivia's retirement 
is not very wise. 

112. Pia mater, the membrane that immediately covers the 
substance of the brain. 

117-18. Sir Toby was going to give a description of the 
gentleman, but was seized with an attack of indigestion ; 
hence "A plague on these pickle-herring," to which he says 
the attack was due. It was probably the combined effect of 
drink and pickle-herring. The Clown possibly laughed at him, 
so Sir Toby adds furiously, " How now, sotl" 

122. Sir Toby's next speeches show his fuddled condition. 

131. Crowner, coroner. Properly, the crown officer. His 
duty is to inquire into the cause of a sudden or suspicious 
death, by holding an inquest, or, as it is called, sitting upon the 
body. 

144. Has been told so. He has was frequently pronounced, 
and sometimes written, has (Sh. Gr., §400). 

145. A sheriff's post. Outside the sheriffs door there used 
to be set up painted posts, both for the purpose of showing 
where the sheriff lived, and for posting up proclamations. 

154. A squash, anything unripe and soft. Here, an unripe 
peascod. Codling, an unripe apple. 

155. In standing water. Capell's reading is, e'en standing- 
water; i.e., slack water when the tide is just on the turn. In 
standing water = in water neither ebbing nor flowing. 

157. Shrewishly, jauntily, saucily. 

170. Comptible, susceptible, easily brought to account. 

174. Part, the part, or role, she had studied. 

175. Modest assurance, some slight assurance, or evidence. 
178-79. Very fangs of malice, in defiance of the most mali- 
cious interpretation. 

181. Usurp myself, take to myself that which does not be- 
long to me. 
184. From, apart from, contrary to. 

194. If you be not mad, if you are going, or becoming, mad. 
196. Skipping, flighty, incoherent. 

198. Swabber, one whose duty is to swab, or mop, the deck. 
To hull, to drive to and fro upon the water without sails or 

rudder, to lie to without anchoring. Note the continued meta- 
phor in hoist sail, swabber, and hull. 

199. Some mollification for your giant. Ladies in ro- 
mance are guarded by giants. Viola, seeing the waiting-maid. 



sc. v.] NOTES. 129 

so eager to oppose her message, entreats Olivia to pacify her 
giant, A pleasant allusion to the diminutive size of Maria. 

203. Courtesy, the form and ceremony of delivering it. 

205. Taxation of homage, order for the payment of hom- 
age. The olive. The olive branch was symbolical of peace. 
This use was based on the account of Noah's dove. 

210. Entertainment, reception. 
'212. To your ears my secret will sound excellent in the 
highest degree, but to repeat it in public would be to degrade 
love. 

214. Divinity, religious doctrine. Olivia uses this word in 
the quite technical sense of religious doctrine, and pronouricts 
it heretical. 

229. Such a one I v\'as this present, Olivia speaks as if 
showing Viola her portrait. I was thus, just belore yru 
came. And certainly she was, and only veiled to receive him. 

231. If God did all, if the work of nature, and not of art. 

232. 'T is in grain, used of a material which has been dyed 
in the manufacture; and so here means, when the face was 
made its color was made. Grain, or kernels, of which the 
purple dye was made. See G. P, Marsh, Lectures on the Eng, 
Lang., pp. 66-74. 

238. No copy. Olivia will be very cruel if she does not. 
marry and transmit her beauty to her children. 

241. Inventori' d, catalogued. 

247-49. Though your beauty were unparalleled, it could not 
be more than a just recompense for such love as my master's. 

255. In voices well divulged, well spoken of by the world. 

257. Gracious, graceful or beautiful. 

259. In my master's fiame, as fervently as my master does. 

264. My soul, Olivia. 

265. Cantons, cantos or verses. 
271. But, unless, or e.xcept. 

273. State is well, position in life is good. 
279. Fee'd post, hired messenger. 
281. That. The antecedent to that is his. 
283. Cruelty, abstract for concrete. 

288. Five-fold blazon, a term of heraldry, denoting a de- 
scription of armorial bearings. 

289. Unless the master were the man. A vague and un- 
finished phrase, meaning. If only the master were the man, or 
something to that effect. 

290. The plague, the infection of love. 

295. Peevish, silly, foolish, childish. It acquired its present 
meaning because fools and children are apt to fret. 

296. The county's man, comity and count meant just the 
same. 



I30 NOTES. [act II. 

304. Mine eye too great a flatterer. She fears that her 
eyes had formed so flattering an idea of Cesario that she 
should not have sufficient strength of mind to resist the im- 
pression. 

305. Ourselves ■we do not owe, we do not possess our- 
selves; we cannot govern or control ourselves. Owe is com- 
monly used in the sense of J>ossess. 

ACT II. 
Scene i. 

This scene comes thus early to let the audience into the 
secret of the plot; and, by coming between two halves of a 
whole, it is practically out of time. 

3. Patience, permission, or leave. My stars, etc. An al- 
lusion to the old belief of the astrologers, that the planets in 
the ascendant at the time of a man's birth influenced his des- 
tiny. Several English words in use now — such as disaster, ill- 
siarred^ etc. — had at one time a purely astrological meaning. 

4-5. Distemper, derange, or throw out of order. 

9. Sooth, in truth. My determinate voyage is mere ex- 
travagancy, the course I have determined upon is merely to 
go roving. 

12. It charges me in manners, it is my duty in ordinary 
civility. 

13. To express myself, to reveal myself. 

15. Messaline. No such place known. Mitylene has been 
suggested, as has also Messina. 

19. Some hour. Note the expression, some being used with 
a singular noun of time. 

20. Breach of the sea, breakers or surf. 

22. A lady, sir, though, etc. The relative is omitted. See 
Sh. Gr., §244. 

24. Estimable w^onder. The meaning is, that he could not 
venture to think as highly as others of his sister. 

30. Your trouble, the trouble I have given you. 

31. Knight suggests that this may refer to a superstition 
Scott uses in The Pirate^ that one saved from drowning would 
do his preserver a capital injury. 

Scene 2. 

5. To have taken, by having taken. See Sh. Gr., § 356, 
6-7. You should put your lord into a desperate assur- 
ance, that you thoroughly explain to your lord that he must 
despair. 



sc. III.] NOTES. 131 

II, She took the ring of me, etc. Viola, finding the ring- 
sent after her, accompanied by a fiction, is quick-witted and 
delicate enough to meet it with another, and designedly 
avoids betraying the weakness of Olivia before her steward. 

17. Fortune forbid . . . not. We should have expected 
fortune forbid^ etc., without the not; but this negative is fre- 
quently found after verbs which contain in themselves a 
negative idea. 

Had lost her tongue, prevented the use of, or caused the 
loss of, her tongue. 

21-22. In the craftiness of her love she allures me by means 
of this surly messenger. 

27. Pregnant enemy, prompt or ready fiend (the enemy of 
mankind). 

28. Proper-false, handsome and deceitful. 

32. Fadge, suit, or fit together. 

33. Monster. Viola applies the expression to her self 
because she is dressed as a boy. 

35-38. In my character of a man I see that my master's love 
for Olivia is to be despaired of; in my character of a woman I 
see what unavailing sighs poor Olivia will breathe. Viola, 
being in love herself, can sympathize with the grief that Olivia 
will feel when she discovers that the handsome page is a 
woman. 

Scene 3, 

2. Diluculo surgere. The full quotation, found in Lilly's 
Gratmnar, is, " Diluculo surgere saluberrimum est," to rise 
;.t dawn is most healthful, 

9. The four elements, earth, air, fire, and water. 

13. A stoup, or stoop, held about half a gallon usually, and 
was originally a measure, and then came to mean a cup to 
drink out of. 

16. The picture of " we three," an allusion to an old print 
sometimes pasted on the wall of a country alehouse, represent- 
ing two, but under which the spectator reads, "We three are 
asses." 

ig. Breast, voice. So used in Fletcher's Pilgrim, " Let's 
hear him sing; he has a fine breast." 

22. Pigrogromitus, etc. " We cannot but recognize on what 
far travels, in what good company, Feste the jester had but 
lately been on that night of very gracious fooling, when he 
was pleased to enlighten the unforgetful mind of Sir Andrew, 
as to the history of Pigrogromitus, and of the Vapians passing 
the equinoctial of Queubus" (A Study 0/ Shakespeare, pp. 155- 
56, quoted in the " Henry Irving" Shakespeare). 

24. Leman, sweetheart, or mistress. 



132 NOTES. [act II. 

25-27. I did impeticos. That there was originally some- 
thing which suggested this particular form of nonsense em- 
ployed by the Clown, there can be little doubt. Of course its 
principal object was to make the audience laugh. 

27. Myrmidons. A people of Thessaly, who followed 
Achilles to the siege of Troj% and were distinguished for their 
savage brutality and rude behavior. So, any rough feliow^ em- 
ployed to annoy another is the employer's myrmidon. 

32. Testril, a sixpence. 

34-35. Song of good life may either mean a song of a moral 
kind, or a song of a jovial kind. 

50. Sweet and twenty. Either a term of endearment, or, 
less probably, twenty sweet kisses. To regard " sweet and 
twenty'" as a vocative is wrong. 

56. Make the welkin dance, drink and sing till the sky 
seems to spin round. 

57-58. Draw three souls out of one weaver. The mean- 
ing here is, that a starved psalm-singing weaver would be so 
delighted with this catch that he would feel himself animated 
with three souls. 

61. By 'r lady. By our Lady, the Virgin Mary. 

62. Catch. Sir John Hawkins says, "A catch is a species 
of vocal harmony to be sung by three or more persons, and is 
so contrived that, though each sings precisely the same notes 
as his fellows, yet, by beginning at stated periods of time irom 
each other, there results from the performance a harmony of 
as many parts as there are singers." Here each of the singers 
calls the other knave in turn. 

71. Caterwauling. To caterwaul is to cry as a cat. 

74. Cataian, a person who came from Cathay, the old name 
for China. The expression was used as a term of reproach, 
and usually denoted, like " heathen Chinee," a cheat or 
sharper. 

75. Peg-a-Ramsey, the name of two old tunes given in 
Chappell. " Three merry men be we," the refrain o4<more 
than one old song, 

77. Tillyvally. An expression equivalent \.o fiddle-de-dee. 
Cp. 2 Henry IV. ^ ii. iv. 90, "Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me." 
Lady! Sir Toby, vexed at Maria's remark, " If my lady have 
not," etc., repeats the word in a sneering way; and the word 
suggests another ballad, " There dwelt a man in Babylon, 
lady, lady." Not very much to the point, as his ideas are get- 
ting decidedly mixed. 

79. Beshrew me, may evil happen to me, or mischief take 
me. 

87. Wit, here used, as elsewhere in the play, in its literal 
sense of wisdom, or judgment. 



sc. IV.] NOTES. 133 

88. Tinkers, proverbially given to tippling. 

89-90. Coziers' catches. Cozier or cosier^ a tailor who 
botches his work. 

93. Sneck up, go and hang yourself. 

114. Cakes and ale. It was the custom on holidays and 
saints' days to make cakes in honor of the day. The Puritans 
called this superstition. Green, in his History of the English 
People^ chap, ix., says, " The want of poetry, of fancy, in the 
common Puritan temper condemned half the popular observ- 
ances of England as superstitious. It was superstitious to 
keep Christmas or deck the house with holly or ivy. It was 
superstitious to dance round the village Maypole. It was flat 
popery to eat a mince pie. ^'' 

1 17-18. Rub your chain with crumbs. The steward's 
badge of office formerly was a gold chain, and the usual mode 
ofcleaning plate was by rubbing it with crumbs. 

121. Uncivil rule, disorderly conduct. 

124-25. To drink when a man 's a-hungry. Sir Andrew's 
blunder for " to drink when a man's a-thirsty." 

132. Nayw^ord, a by-word. 

133. Common recreation, a laughing-stock, 
136. Possess us, tell us. 

146. Aflfectioned. According to Murray's iV^ew Z>z'c/z£i««rj', 
passionate, self-willed, obstinate; but the word was used by 
Shakespeare to mean affected. 

147. State, arguments of state. Sw^aths, grass cut and 
thrown together by the scythe. 

165. Color, kind. 

168. Ass, a pun on the words ass and as. 

175. Penthesilea, queen of the Amazons, killed by Achilles. 
Another jest at Maria's small stature. 

176. Before me, an expression meaning in my opinion. A 
euphemism for before God. 

177. Beagle, possibly suggested by, " I smell a device." 
The beagle is a small hound. 

182. Recover, attain, obtain. 

283. Out of pocket. 

185. Call me cut, a contraction of curtail — that is, a horse 
"with a docked tail. 

188. Burn some sack. Sack was a sweet wine. There was 
Sherry Sack, Madeira Sack, Canary Sack, etc. The word is 
derived from the Spanish seco, dry, because it was made from 
dried grapes. Burnt sack was wine made warm, or mulled. 

Scene 4. 
5. Recollected terms, phrases gathered with pains, not 
spontaneous, according to Mr. Aldis Wright in the Clarendon 



134 NOTES. [act ii. 

Press Edition. The idea perhaps is rather that of words of a 
song which, continually like the light airs to which they are 
set, seem to run in the head. 
17 Motions, emotions. 

24, Favor, face. 

25. By your favor, if you will let me say so; but by is here 
used in the sense of on also, and Viola means that her eye 
has rested on the face of the duke, whom she loves. 

30. Becomes fitted to him like a garment. 
34. Worn, worn out. 

37. Hold the bent, keeps its true course. 

45. "Weave their thread with boneSo Bones were for 
merly used instead of pins in lacemaking. 

46. Silly sooth, plain, simple truth. 
48. The old age, the former time. 

52. Cypress, a coffin of cypress wood. 

74. Changeable taffeta, a fabric made of silk, which took 
various hues in different lights. 

86. That nature pranks her in, beauty in which nature 
decks her. 

98. No motion of the liver, the liver was looked upon as 
the seat of passion. 

99. That suffer surfeit. It was but a few minutes before 
that he said women had more constancy in love than men. 
The antecedent to That is their. 

no. She, who never told her love, sat smiling at grief as 
placidly as Patience on a monument. Theobald conjectures 
that Shakespeare took this idea from Chaucer's Assembly of 
Fowls^ 242 : 

" Dame Pacience, sitting there I fonde 
With face pale, upon an hill of sonde." 

112. Thought, sorrow, anxiety. 

120. All the daughters. Note the cleverness of this an- 
swer. 

124. Denay, denial. 

Scene 5. 

5. Sheep-biter, a dog that worries sheep. 

8. A bear-baiting. '"The Puritan hated bear-baiting, not 
because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure 
to the spectators. Indeed, he generally contrived to enjoy the 
double pleasure of tormenting both spectators and bear '* 
(Macaulay, History of England, vol. i. chap. 2). 

14. Metal of India, lass of gold. 

24. Affect me, had a.a affection for, loved. 

31. Jets, struts with head erect. 

33. 'Slight, a contraction for God''s light. 



sc. v.] NOTES. 135 

39. The lady of the Strachy. An allusion to some person 
marrying beneath her. All particulars are lost, probably in 
some forgotten novel or play. 

41. Jezebel, scarcely the right name, but as good as could be 
expected from Sir Andrew. 

43. Blows him, puffs him up, swells him out. 

45. State, chair of state with a canopy over it. 

46. Stone-bow, a cross-bow used for shooting stones. 

' 47. Branched, ornamented with patterns of sprigs and 
flowers. 
48. Day-bed, couch or sofa. 

52. Humor of state, assumption and whims of rank. 
52-53. After a demure travel of regard, after an affectedly 

grave stare at each one in turn. 

53. Telling them, which would tell them. 

59-60. Wind up my watch. Pocket-watches were intro- 
duced into England from Germany about 1580. 

60. Play with my — some rich jewel. Dr. Nicholson sug- 
gests that Malvolio is on the point of saying " With my chain;'" 
but, remembering that that was the badge of the office of 
steward, he substitutes something more appropriate to his. 
altered fortunes. 

64. Cars. Various readings have been proposed. By the- 
ears, ivith carts, cables, cords. 

73. Scab, a dirty fellow. 

81. 'Woodcock. Shakespeare alludes several times to this 
bird as being one of the most foolish of the feathered tribe. 

86. It is, in contempt of question, her hand, to doubt it 
would be ridiculous. 

90. Soft, gently. Impressure. Our word is itnpression^ 
Her Lucrece, the head of Lucretia. 

97. The numbers altered, a different meter follows. 

99. Brock, a badger. 

101. Lucrece knife, an allusion to the death of the wife of 
Collatinus by her own hand. 

104. Fustian, inflated. Arabic Fustdt, another name of 
Cairo, whence the stuff first came. — Skeat. 

109. Checks, the hawk gives up her natural flight to fly 
after what is improper game. 

112. Formal capacity, any one of well-regulated mind. 

117. Sowter, here used as the name of a hound. It was a 
term of abuse, and meant a cobbler. W^ill cry upon 't, will 
give tongue on picking up the scent. 

117-18. Though it be as rank as a fox, though obvious to 
the meanest capacity. 

122-23. But then there is no harmony or agreement in what 
follows; that does not stand being put to the proof. 



136 NOTES. [act hi. 

125. O shall end. Malvolio will sigh when he discovers 
the trick played upon him. 

130. This cypher is not like the former piece I have made 
out, yet by twisting it about a little it could be made to serve 
my purpose. 

134. In my stars, in my lot in life or sphere. 

139. Cast thy slough. When a snake casts its old skin and 
appears in a new bright one it casts its slough. 

140. Opposite, adverse, hostile, contrary. 

142. Put thyself into the trick of singularity, assume an 
air of distinction. 

144. Yellow stockings, according to Steevens, were much 
-worn before ihr civil war. 

144-45. Cross-gartered. Expensive and showy garters 
were worn both above and below the knee. When the trunk 
hose became breeches, they were made open at the knees, where 
they w^ere fringed, and were fastened with sash-like garters. 
It was the mark of a fop to wear cross-garters; and it was to 
this new fashion that Olivia objected. 

150. Daylight and champain, broad daylight and an open 
country. 

151-52, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will bring Sir Toby into 
dissfrace. Baffle, originally used to denote the punishment 
inflicted on recreant knights. 

153. Point-devise, or point-de vice, minutely exact, punc- 
tilious. 

154. Jade me, harass me, as a horse that is ridden too hard. 
160. Strange, haughty, disdainful. 

163. Thou canst not choose but know, thou canst not help 
knowing. 

170. Sophy, the Shah of Persia. 

179. Tray-trip, a game in which dice were used, so called 
irom the important throw, a tray. 

185. Aqua-vitae, brandy, or any other form of ardent spirits. 
Cp. Eau-de-vie ^ and Irish usquebaugh. 

194. Tartar = Tartarus — that is. Hades. In the Iliad it is a 
place as far below Hades as Heaven is above the earth. 

ACT III. 

Scene i. 

IT. You have said, an obsolete form of affirmation found in 
the Bible. 

12. Cheveril, kid leather, which is yielding or pliable. 

34. Pilchards, a fish closely resembling the herring, caught 
oft the Cornish coast. 

39-40. But the fool should be, if the fool should not be. 



yc. II.] NOTES. 137 

42. Pass upon me, a phrase taken from fencing. Here 
means pass your wit upon me. 

50. Put to use, put out at usury, at interest. 

55. Cressida was a beggar. An allusion to Henryson's 
poem of The Testament of Cressida, in which she is con- 
demned to die as a beggar. 

63. Haggard, an untrained hawk, 

74. Trade, anciently used to express business or employment 
of any kind. 

76. List, bound, limit, furthest point. 

87. Taste, test. try. 

82. Prevented, anticipated. Cp. Psalm cxix. 148, " Mine 
eyes prevent the night watches." 

88. Pregnant, ready 

109. Music from the spheres. This doctrine of music of 
the spheres was first suggested by Pythagoras: Plato speaks 
of a siren sitting an.1 singing on each plant t : and Milton, .in 
Arcades, mentions "celestial syrens' harmony that sits upon 
the nine enfolded spheres.*' 

I [9. Receiving, ability or understanding. 

120. Cypress, a thin material of gauze or crape, which is 
transparent. 

123. A grize, or grise, a step. Vulgar proof, common 
proof, or common experience. 

132. Proper man, handsome, fine-looking. 

133. Due west, as the sun of his favor was setting. West- 
ward ho! a call of watermen on the Thames, to let passengers 
know they were ready to start up the river. So Eastivard ho! 
when ready to start down stream. 

r38. The meaning is, that you forget your rank in your love 
for a page. 

139. I think the same of you, I forget your inferior posi- 
tion. 

150. Maugre, in spite of. 

152. Extort, deduce, or infer. Clause, statement. 

153. For that, because. 

Scene 2. 

18. Dormouse, sleeping. 

25. The north of my lady's opinion, out of the sunshine 
of her favor. 

26. Dutchman's beard. The Dutch were the great explorers 
at the end of the i6th century— especially of the North. 

2Q. I had as lief, I would as willingly. 

Brownist, a follower of Robert Brown, who separated hin-- 
•self from the English Church about 1580. The present Inde 



133 NOTES. [act iir. 

pendents hold nearly the same religious views as the Brown- 
ists. 

34. Love-broker, a person who deals or trades in love. 

4«. Curst, ill-tempered, crabbed, or cross-grained.-^ 

43. If thou thou'st him. Thou was employed offensively 
when used towards strangers who were not inferiors. For 
further particulars, see Sh. Gr., §§ 231-33. Inj^the trial of Sir 
Walter Raleigh. Sir Edward Coke, the Attorney-General, ad- 
dressed him as follows : "All that he did was by thy instiga- 
tion, thou viper; for I thou thee, thou traitor, I will prove thee 
the rankest traitor in England." 

45. The bed of Ware, a huge bed, some ten feet square, 
said to be big enough to hold twenty-four persons. It was 10 
be seen at the Saracen's Head, in Ware, in Hertfordshire. 

50. The cubiculo, room, or chamber. 

58. Hale, drag. 

59. Blood in his liver. A white liver, or one without 
blood, Avas a sign of cowardice. 

63. The youngest wren of nine, another allusion to the 
small size of Maria. The wren lays nine or ten eggs, and 
those birds which are last hatched are the smallest. 

64. The spleen, commonly used for (i) tit of ai\ger, (2) in- 
constancy, (3) melancholy; but here used for (4) immoderate 
merrLi&ent. 

68. Impossible passages of grossness, the utter folly that 
Maria has made Malvolio believe. ^■ 

71. Pedant here means merely a schoolmaster. 

75. New map. See Mr. Coote's paper (New Sh. Soc, 1878), 
and introductory remarks on internal evidence of date of the 
play, pp. 3, 4. 

Scene 3. 

8. Jealousy, uneasiness, fear. 

15. Many attempts have been made to correct this faulty 
line. Steevens' reading seems the best — " And thanks, and 
ever thanks; often good turns." 

17. 'Worth, wealth. 

24. Do renown, used transitively for do make renowned. 

26. The count his galleys. His was used as sign for the 
possessive case — falsely supposed to be that of which 'jt is a 
contraction. 

28. It would scarce be answer'd, I should find it difficult 
to give a satisfactory account of my conduct. 

33. Answer'd, amends might have been mad e for it. 

36. Laps'd, caught off my guard. 



sc. IV 1 NOTES. 139 



Scene 4. 

1. He says he '11 come, suppose he says he '11 come. 

2. Of him, on him. 

5. Sad and civil, sober, well-mannered. 

53. Midsummer madness, the idea being thai hot weather 
sometimes affected the brain. 

62. O ho, do you understand my manner no^v? (trium- 
phantly). 

71. Sir, gentleman. Limed, ensnared, as birds are caught 
with birdlime. 

73. Fellow, here companion, or equal. Not used offen- 
sively, as it sometimes is now. 

75. Adheres, coheres. 

75-76. Dram of a scruple, a pun upon scruple. 

82. In little, in muiiaiure. 

86. Private, privacy. 

107. Bawcock, a burlesque term of endearment, fine fel- 
low, good fellow. 

108. Chuck, a term of affection. So in Othello, iv. 2, 25, 
*' Pray, chuck, come hither." 

no. Biddy, probably another term of affection. This is the 
only place in which Shakespeare uses the word. 

III. Cherry-pit, a game which consists of pitching cherry- 
stones into a hole. 

112 Collier, a term of the greatest reproach. 

115. Minx, a pert girl, or puppy. Shakespeare uses this 
word only twice elsewhere in his plays, and each time in 
Othello. 

125-26. Take air and taint, become exposed by being talked 
about, and so spoilt. 

129-30. Dark room and bound, the ordinary treatment of 
the time for lunatics. 

136. May morning. May ist, the season for sport and merri- 
ment of all kinds. 

144. Nor admire not. Adinire and admiration are used by 
Shakespeare in their classical sense of wonder, marvel. 

148. The law, the law or rules of the duello, which wer« 
very ridiculous and precise in defining what was an insult 
w^hich must end in a duel, and what might be passed over. 

152. Sense — less. Down to the word sense is spoken out 
loud ; less is added aside. 

158. The windy side of the law, so that the law cannot 
scent you, as a hound does the game. 

162. My hope is better. Sir Andrew means that he hopes 
he will not be killed, and immediately require God"s mercy. 

167. Commerce, talk, common or familiar intercourse. 



I40 NOTES. [act hi. 

170. Bum-baily, a bailiff, or sheriff's officer, who followed in 
the rear and so perhaps got his name. 

174. Approbation, ground for esteem. 

182. Clodpole, blockhead, or thickskull. 

188. Cockatrices, fabulous creatures, with the wings of a 
fowl, tail of a dragon, and head of a cock. So called because 
thought to be produced from a cock's ^%% hatched by a ser- 
pent. They had the power of killing with a glance of the eye. 

190. Presently = immediately — in Shakespeare's day. 

193. Out. The Folios have ont^ the stnse then being, Be- 
stowed my honor too incautiously on a heari of stone. Theo- 
bald altered the reading to out, 

200. Jewel, any precious ornament. 

214. Despite, malice, defiance with contempt. 

215-16. Dismount thy tuck, draw thy sword. 

216. Yare, nimble, active, quick. 

224. Withal, the emphatic form of with.. Used for with 
after the object at the end of a sentence {Sh. Gr., § 196). 

226. An unhatched rapier is an unbacked rapier. A good 
instance is quoted by Mr. P. A. Daniel from Fletcher's Knight 
0/ Alalta. iv. 5 — 

" Unhardened with relentle«:s thoughts; unhatch'd 
With blood and bloody practice. " 

Carpet consideration refers to the dubbing of what were 
called carpet knights, as distinguished from knights who had 
the honor conferred upon them on the field of battle. 

230. None, the emphatic form of «<?, like mine of my {Sh. 
Gr., §53). , J ^ 

231. Hobnob, hit or miss, give or take, defiance. 
233. Conduct, guard, or escort. 

236. Quirk, shift, or cavil. Viola means this is a caviller. 

245. This courteous office as to know. We say. Such 
courteous, etc. 

262. Sir priest. In ancient times. Sir was a common title 
of those priests who had taken \.\\e\r Jirst degree in the Uni- 
versity. That this title was quite distinct from knighthood is 
plain from what Viola says, '• I am one that would rather go 
with sir priest than sir knight." The imaginary curate in this 
play is consequently called Sir Topas. 

265. Firago, a corruption of virago, a woman with the 
swaggering airs of a man. 

266. Stuck, a corruption of stoccata, an Italian term in fenc- 
ing. 

268. Pays you, hits you. 
277. Motion, proposal. 

2S3. He is as horribly conceited of him, he has as horrid 
a conception of him. 



sc. II.] NOTES. 141 

289. Supportance, support, or vindication. 
306, Undertaker, one who undertakes, or takes up an- 
other's quarrel or business. 

333. My having, fortune or possessions. 

334. My present, money on hand. 
356. Unkind, unnatural. 

358. O'erflourish'd, chests richly ornamented with scroll- 
wcfrk, common in Elizabeth's time. 

363. So do not I, I do not yet believe myself when from this 
accident I gather hope of my brother's lite. 

369. Yet living. The meaning is. that every time she looks 
in her glass she thinks she sees her brother. 

371. Still in this fashion. Stillin Shakespeare invariably 
has the sense of constantly, or ever. 

375. Than a hare, than a hare is. 

379. 'Slid, God's eyelid. 

ACT IV. 

Scene i. 

15. Cockney. A term of reproach applied to a vagabond 
who hung about a kitchen of a large mansion, for the sake of 
what he could get to eat. 

18. Foolish Greek, a proverbial expression for doon com- 
panion. 

23. After fourteen years' purchase, at fourteen times the 
annual rent — a high price for land. 

39. "Well fleshed, well accustomed to fight. 

44. Malapert, impudent. 

51. Rudesby, rude, rough fellow. 

53. Extent is in law a writ of execution, whereby goods are 
seized for the king (at their extended value). It is therefore 
taken here for violence in general. 

59. Heart, etc., another pun upon the words heart and 
hart. 

62. Lethe, the river of forgetfulness, one of the four in 
Hades. 

Scene 2. 

4. Dissemble myself, disguise, or cloak myself. 

5. Dissembled, played the part of a hypocrite. 
10. Competitors, confederates, colleagues. 

12-13. Old hermit of Prague, etc., a satire on the pedantry 
of the day. 

14. Gorboduc, an ancient British king, subject of tne first 



142 NOTES. [act IV. 

Eng^lish tragedy (published 1565), which was called Gorboduc; 
cr, Ferrex and Porrex. Its authors were Sackville and Nor- 
toa. 

17. Sir Topas, the topas, or topaz, was supposed in former 
times to be a remedy for madness. Note how appropriate, 
then, is the name for the imaginary curate. 

33. That house. The Clown calling the room a house is all 
in keeping with the imaginary bay-windows and clear-stories 
■which follow. 

36- Barricadoes, barricades. 

47. Constant question, regular conversation. 

61. I am for all waters. The Clown is complimented by 
Sir Toby for personating Sir Topas so exquisitely; to which he 
replies that he can put on all colors, alluding to the word to- 
paz, which is the name of a jewel, and was also that of the 
Curate. 

70. 'I Hey, Robin, jolly Robin." This ballad is to be 
found in Percy's Reliques of Ancie7it Poetry. 

83 Beside, or besides, means out of, especially of any men- 
tal state; so our common expression beside oneself. 

88. Propertied me, treated me as a tool. 

92. Malvolio, Malvolio. The Clown now adopts the tone 
and voice of the imaarinary Sir Topas. 

93-94. Bibble babble, intensive reduplication of <5a^<5/^. Cp. 
tittle tattle, pit-pat., idle or empty talk, prating. A w^ord in 
common use in the sixteenth century (Murray's New English 

Dictionary). 

96. Maintain no words. Spoken as Sir Topas. 

97. Who, I, sir .? As the Clown. 

98. Marry, amen. As Sir Topas. I will, sir, I will. As 
the Clown, and as if he had received a whispered order from 
Sir Topas. 

loi. Shent, scolded, reproved. 

120. In a trice, in a moment. The hour was divided into 
m-nutes, seconds, and tribes., or thirds. 

121. Vice, one of the characters in the old moral plays or 
allegories. In them the performers personated such characters 
as Mercy, Virtue, Vice, etc. The latter character used to 
make sport of the devil, beating him and paring his nails with 
a wooden dagger. 

Scene 3. 

6. Credit, belief, this thing believed. Possibly credit is 
written for credited, 

15. Trust, belief. 

24. Chantry, a chape! endowed to support a priest, or 
priests, to chant masses daily for the founder when dead. 

26. It should be remarked that this was not an actual mar- 



sc. I.] NOTES. 143 

riage, but a betrothing, affiancing-, or solemn promise of 
future marriage, anciently distinguished by the name of es- 
pousal. See Douce's Illustrations of Shakespeare. 

28. A foot or syllable can be omitted when there is any 
marked pause, whether arising from (i) emotion, (2) antithesis, 
(3) parenthesis, (4) merely from the introduction of a relative 
clause, or even a new statement (Sh. Gr., §508). 

ACT V. 

Scene i. 

18. Abused, used ill. 

Conclusions. Coleridge explains this passage thus : 
" The humor lies in the whispered No and the inviting Don't 
with which the maiden's kisses are accompanied, and thence 
compared to negatives which by repetition constitute an af- 
firmative." 

29. Your grace. There is a play upon the words yozir grace 
(as title of a duke), just as there is a play upon the word 
double-dealing. 

30. It, the evil counsel of double-dealing. 

31. So much a sinner to be. Note the omission of as. 
34. Triplex, triple time in music. 

37-38. At this throw, at this cast of the dice. 

50. Bawbling, trifling, paltry. 

51. Unprizable. According to Sk. Gr., " Not able to be 
made a prize of, or captured." Possibly, valueless if cap- 
tured; or, on the other hand, possibly of great value, owing to 
its shallow draught and handiness in the fight. 

52. Scathful, harmful, injurious. 

53. Bottom, ship. Especially, the hull of a merchant 
vessel. 

57. Fraught. Our noun is freight, but Shakespeare uses 
fraught as a noun. From, supply on her return.,or coming. 
Candy, Candia. 

60. Desperate of shame and state, destitute of shame, and 
not caring for his position. 

67. Dear, a word used to express intensity. 

87. Recommended, given into his charge. 

114. The Egyptian thief. The story is that of Thyamis, a. 
native of Memphis, who at the head of a band of robbers had 
seized Theagenes and Chariclea, and had fallen in love with 
the latter. Being attacked by another band of robbers, he 
shut her up in a cave along with his treasures, until despairing; 
of safety he attempted to murder her. 

121. Minion, favorite, servile flatterer. 



144 NOTES. [act v. 

143. Strangle thy propriety, suppress thy personal identity. 

161. Case, skin, used contemptuously. 

167. Little. A is omitted before little ^ where we commonly 
place it in the sense of sojne {Sh. Gr.. § 86), 

169. Presently, immediately, at once. 

178. Incardinate, he means incarnate . 

180. 'Od's lifelings, by God's life. ''Oefs is frequently fol- 
lowed by a sort of diminutive of this kind. 

igo. Othergates, otherwise, in a different way. 

195. Were set, fixed with a glassy stare, owing to the effect 
of drink, 

196-97. Passy measures pavin. Not needful to find mean- 
ing in a drunken man's speech, but perhaps Sir Toby is call- 
ing the Surgeon a grave, solemn coxcomb in giving him the 
name of a formal dance w^hich he disliked. Passy measure is 
i^xo\i2XAy passaiJiezzo, a slow step. 

202. An ass-head, etc., epithets obviously applied to Sir 
Andrew Aguecheek. 

211. So late ago seems to be a combination oiso lately and 
so short a tifne ago {Sh. Gr.^ §411). 

213. A natural perspective. In a pleated paper and table 
furrowed or indented, one picture represents several faces. 
Viewed from one place or standing, it shows the head uf a 
man, and from another, the head of an ass. Thus that which 
is, is not, or in a different position appears like another thing. 

223. Deity, etc, power, which God only possesses, of being 
everywhere. 

226. Of charity, an ellipse oi/or the sake of charity, 

230. Suited, dressed. 

233. Dimension, bodily shape. 

234. Which. Supply in before ivhich. 

235 As the rest goes even, as other things harmonize or 
agree. 

248. Cohere and jump, coincide and agree exactly. 

256. Bias. Taken from bowls, which have a certain con- 
struction to make them run obliquely. So figuratively, incli- 
nation, leaning, tendency, swaying, influence (See Murray's 
Neiv English Dictionary) . 

267. Orbed continent the fire, the sun. 

274. Enlarge him, set him at large, or at liberty. 

277. Extracting frenzy, a frenzy that drew me away from 
everything but its own object — her love for Cessario. 

284. It skills not much, it doesn't signify much. 

290. You must allow Vox. The Clown had probably be- 
gun to read the letter in a very loud tone. Being reprimanded 
by his mistress, he justifies himself by saying, " If you would 



sc. I.] NOTES. 145 

have it read as such a mad epistle ought to be read, you must 
permit me to assume a frantic tone" (Malone). 

311. On't, of it — the double character of sister and wife, 

312. Proper cost, personal expense. 
325. From it, differently from it. 
336. Geek, fool, dupe. 

345. Pass'd upon thee, played upon thee. 

554. Upon, because of. 

356. Importance, importunity. It was Maria, however, who 
concocted the whole scheme, without any instigation from Sir 
Toby. 

359. Pluck on, draw on, cause. 

365. Interlude, a short performance between the acts of a 
play, or between the play and the afterpiece. 

369. The whirligig of Time, a toy which can be spun or 
whirled round. Here the meaning is time, which revolves 
and brings round the seasons. 

374. Convents, calls us together again. 

381. 'When that. We say when. C-p. Julius Ctesar, iii. 2, 
96, " When that the poor have cried, Csesar hath wept." 

381. And is explained in S/i. Gr., § 96, "' When that I was a 
little, and that a very little tiny boy." Cp. this song with a 
verse sung bv the Fool in King Lear, iii. 2 — 
" He that has and a little tiny wit — 
With hey. ho. the wind and the rain — 
Must make content with his fortunes fit, 
Though the rain it rainech every day." 



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